


Debunking Derry (Or, according to Richie, Ghost Gays!)

by TeenCaterpillar



Series: Debunking Derry [1]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Ben just wants everyone to be happy, Bev is strong and tough and she WILL fuck you up, Bill is sweet sweet dumbass, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Crack, Dark Comedy, Eddie wants Richie point blank, Fluff and Humor, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Homophobic Language, Horror, Kinda I mean they're making a youtube channel, M/M, Making Out, Mike is ever suffering but also a bit of a dumbass, Mutual Pining, Richie wants to be youtube famous, Stan can't wait to watch these idiots, and bowers, biphobic language, horror/comedy, it’s all eddie’s mom so, like 21/22?? I was young in school so, lots of making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20629856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak has followed Richie Tozier into a lot of very dumb situations, but this may be the dumbest one yet.Or, The Losers Club make a Youtube Channel dedicated to all the weird shit in Derry.  And maybe some gays find love along the way.Modern AU with Ghosts and Demons but there was no IT shit.(tags will be posted as things pop up. there will be some eventual horror in this.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen.
> 
> Everything is fine all of my babies are alive and well. And Richie and Eddie still have their heads up their asses, but not for long!!
> 
> Unbeta'd  
Lemme know if y'all want more. I mean, if you don't, legit, Imma write it anyway cuz I want it. But if you're into it, that's pretty swell too.
> 
> These boys are in love but they are also so so so so dumb.

There was a monster in front of him, and Eddie shrieked.

“HOLY FUCK!” Richie yelled from beside him, yanking his hands away from Eddie’s sides. Eddie turned and slapped at him, furious.

“Do NOT fucking touch me when we’re watching these fucking movies!” He screamed, only getting red as Richie laughed, eyes wide.

“I didn’t mean to!” He protested. “I didn’t know you were that into it!” Eddie was next to Richie on the tattered couch. He squirmed to the side, trying to move farther away, but Richie pulled him close with a lanky arm, not letting him. “Like, I thought it might have scared you, but I really didn’t think something that dumb would work.” Eddie huffed and pushed away, crossing his arms. Richie shuffled, but left his arm on the back of the couch. Eddie turned away so he couldn’t see him blush. “Wanna watch something else? I’m not really into this anyway.” Richie reached for the remote, switching the channel. Eddie bit his lip.

_Liar_, he thought. _I know you’ve been wanting to see that._. He didn’t say anything. Richie finally settled on some ghost hunting show. Eddie could watch these because they were so...so... 

“God this is fucking cheesy as hell,” Richie droned, laughing when someone gasped about a temperature change. Cheesy. That was the word. Every single possible thing that could be, was considered a ghost. Stubbed toes, breezes, the squeak of a shoe, and on one wonderful, but fucking annoying because Richie never shut up about it, occasion, a fart. “Hey,” Richie chuckled, “Remember that episode where the guy farted and he just, freaked the fuck out?” He cackled and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Ugh,” he scrunched up his nose, “This is so bad. I can’t watch this without being stoned.” Richie hummed and scooted forward so he could reach the cluttered coffee table. They were in Richie’s basement since his parents had never really given a shit, not even when they were kids, but now that RIchie was in college, almost graduated, they really didn’t give a shit. _His_ mother thought he was with Bill, because she would be breathing down his neck until the day he died. Eddie shivered and focused on Richie. His long fingers pushed his glasses up his nose before going back to rolling the joint. Richie always looked so… pretty when he rolled. He was practiced at it and his hands never shook like Eddie’s would. He just always got too stressed about tearing the paper. Eddie looked away, feeling his cheeks flush.

It’d been a long, long time since Eddie Kaspbrak had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with Richie Tozier. It had been late middle school when it really hit him. It’d been the first time the guys had gotten dates to go to the school dance. Well, everyone but Eddie. Even Richie had been asked out by some girl in his Math class. The guys had suggested he come solo, that he wouldn’t be left out, but for once in his life, Eddie appreciated his mother’s overbearing presence. Richie had pressed him when they were on their own about why he was giving into his mother and Eddie had thought, _Because I don’t want to see you dancing with some girl, when you should be dancing with me_. He’d just turned away from him, saying he wanted to get in her good graces so maybe he could escape for fun on more week nights for a while. Richie hadn’t pushed it and Eddie had had a minor crisis.

Eddie had just kind of, well, dealt with it. Richie was incredibly affectionate and Eddie was selfish and a coward. He didn’t want to risk Richie pulling away from him, so he just continued to shove his feelings down as much as he could. Which he had done for the past 7 years. He’d even tried dating, but no one could deal with his crabby, germ obsessed, asshole personality, so he just stopped. Plus, none of them were Richie.

“Ta-dah!” Richie’s voice pulled Eddie out of his thoughts. He showed the joint with a flourish, making Eddie roll his eyes. Richie just continued to smile and lit the joint. “When are the rest of these fuckers supposed to get here again?” Eddie had come over early, unable to stand his mother a moment longer, but Ben and Bev were out on a date, while Stan, Mike, and Bill were dealing with family stuff.

“I think at like one?” Eddie responded. Richie nodded, taking a deep pull and then turning to Eddie. Eddie blushed but leaned forward. Back when they had started smoking weed, Eddie couldn’t take a hit without coughing up a lung, so Richie had mentioned shotgunning. Eddie was only human. Any excuse to have Richie press his mouth to Eddie’s. Richie exhaled into his mouth and then pulled back, taking another hit for himself. Eddie didn’t smoke much, nowhere near as much as Richie, so it only took a few for him to feel it. Plus, he could only quasi-kiss Richie for so long without physically yearning for more, so after a couple of hits, he stopped. Richie kept smoking, watching it dissipate with only mild interest.

“We could do better than that,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“That, ghost hunting shit,” he said, waving his hand. “I mean, Derry is full of weird creepy houses and was the location of like, so many tragedies, if there’s anything out there, there’s definitely something _here_.” Eddie rolled his eyes again, a habit of his whenever Richie said pretty much anything. Richie sat up, frowning. “I’m serious! That house on Neibolt has _got_ to be haunted.”

“Do I look like I want to go anywhere fucking near that house?” Eddie asked in disgust. “It’s infested!”

“But definitely haunted!” Richie leaned into Eddie’s personal space, shit eating grin on his face. “Dude! I could be the funny guy and you could be the stuck up one who’s scared of everything!” Eddie flushed, this time with rage.

“THE WHAT?!” He screeched.

“Got here just in time for an argument, huh?” Mike came down the stairs, smiling, with Bill behind him.

“Yeah guys, y-you didn't get it a-all out b-b-before we got h-here?” Bill added.

“Oh, Eddie’s just upset that if we did a ghost hunting show, he’d be the anxious one who jumps at everything,” Richie said, waving his hand dismissively.

“I would not!” Eddie objected.

“I hate to agree with Richie,” Mike said, “But he has a point.”

“Yeah , Spaghetti!” Richie teased, “I have a point!”

“Don’t call me that, and fuck you, Mike!” Mike held up his hands in surrender before sitting on the bean bag by the couch and reaching out for the joint.

“Who would I be?” He asked, exhaling as he did so. Richie crossed his legs and furrowed his brow in exaggerated thought.

“The ever suffering camera man who barely puts up with us.” Mike laughed.

“Honestly, accurate.” Richie turned to Bill.

“You’d be the asshole who keeps jumping into shit without thinking.”

“H-Hey!” Bill protested.

“You were the one who always took us to abandoned buildings in high school,” Eddie said flatly, “So don’t even fucking argue.” Bill blushed, but smiled gently. The four of them sat in silence, all but Eddie finishing the joint.

“Hey! I hope you waited for me!” Bev’s voice called down the stairs. She hopped over the last few steps, Ben calmly walking down behind her. Bev squished her way in between Eddie and Richie, while Ben sat on the floor between Mike and Bill.

“We most definitely did not, but, oh no, guess that means I gotta roll another!” Richie said, in a horrible scratchy sing song voice that Eddie hated and didn’t like one bit. He ran a hand over his face. _Get it **together**, Kaspbrak_, he told himself. Bev shot him a look and he flushed.

Bev knew, because of course she did. She’d approached Eddie when she visited over one winter break their junior year of high school and flat out asked him what was up with him and Richie. Eddie had tried to play it off, but the flood gates had been ready to open. They had talked for hours, Bev trying to get him to talk to Richie about it, because she was convinced he felt the same, and Eddie refusing to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with him. Bev had finally relented after Eddie had agreed to at least come out. Which he hadn’t done until the summer after.

Everyone was fine with it, of course. Nothing changed. Eddie still didn’t date and still didn’t like to talk about it. Ben, ever the romantic, had tried to set him up with some of the other guys who were out, but Eddie always turned it down. Now, Bev knew about his Pining and kept trying to convince him that Richie felt the same way. But after Richie had come out in college as bi, he never made a move on Eddie. So… that was that. They were just two queer friends and Eddie was _not_ waiting for Richie Tozier. He was just waiting for a Richie Knock-Off (not that he’d admit that to anyone, even under torture).

“So,” Bev’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “We’ve got our camera man, research guy, funny guy, idiot--”

“Hey!” Bill protested.

“Sorry, Bill, and the cool one, which is me, obviously. Would Stan and Eddie both be our scaredy cats?”

“I’m not going fucking anywhere,” Stan piped up. Eddie jumped. He hadn’t even heard him arrive. Richie snickered.

“Yeah, honestly, Eds has got that job secured.”

“Fuck off, Tozier. And don’t call me that.”

“Well, then what would Stan do?” Richie asked. “Everyone has to be involved. There must be something we’re missing!”

“An editor?” Ben offered quietly. Richie’s eyes lit up.

“Oh _hell_ yes!” Richie cheered. “Stan could make us look so cool!”

“But would I want to.” Stan rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. It’s not something we’re actually going to do.” There was silence from Bev, Bill, and Richie. “Oh no,” Stan began. “No no no no no no no.”

“It’s not l-like we have a-anything else to d-d-do this summer,” Bill said.

“And I’d love to have something to remember our last real summer together,” Bev added. They paused a moment, trying to ignore the reality that after next summer, they’d be graduated and ‘doing something’ with their lives.

“I wanna be youtube famous,” Richie said with a shrug. “And Derry is weird as hell. Like, how is this anything but a good idea?”

“You want a list? My mom, where do we get a camera, a good one, where do we get software to edit it, and don’t these guys have like, ghost hunting machines and shit?” Eddie ranted. “We don’t have the money to do it, and I’m just gonna toss this one out there again, my mom will _literally_ fucking kill me if she hears I even said the words Neibolt house.”

“Well,” Ben said, “I’m sure there’s stuff we can get cheap at a pawn shop.” Richie pointed at him.

“Yes! Plus, can’t we like, pirate shit or something?”

“Probably,” Mike added. “And as for ghost hunting equipment, I mean, if we did our research we could maybe make some of our own?”

“I’ve g-got some money s-s-saved up from my school job!” Bill said, getting excited. “Guys! It’ll b-be so c-cool!!” The group turned to look at Stan, who shrugged.

“As long as I don’t have to go to any of these places, I’m fine.” They then rounded on Eddie.

“Oh fuck all you,” he griped. “I’m making sure we always have a first aid kit because you idiots always hurt yourselves.” Richie cheered and leaned across Bev to try and hug Eddie. It was horrible and it sent thrills up his spine. “Yeah, yeah, get off me you oaf.”

“Oh Eds, you don’t gotta sweet talk me,” Richie cooed. Eddie flushed and punched his shoulder.

“Fuck off! And stop calling me that!” Richie laughed and sat back.

“What should we call ourselves? The Losers Club is like, nice and all, but doesn’t have much to do with ghost hunting,” Richie said.

“Ghostbust--” Bill began.

“NO.” They replied in unison.

“And copyrighted,” Ben said.

“Ghost Gays!” Richie shouted.

“You and Eddie are the only ones who are gay,” Mike pointed out.

“Yeah and?”

“Who else has an idea,” Stan groaned.

“Derry Dudes?”

“Shut UP, Richie!”

“What about Debunking Derry?” Ben said. They paused, thinking about it. “I mean, it’s not a group name, but if we’re focusing on ghosts here, that’d be a good show name.”

“Debunking Derry,” Richie said, over enunciating and drawing out the vowels. “You may be onto something there, Hanscom!”

“Let’s put it to a vote!” Bill suggested. “All for Debunking Derry?” Everyone but Eddie raised their hands. Eddie held his up in faux disgust.

“I’m not choosing anything for this ridiculous bullshit.”

“Then it’s unanimous!” Richie cheered. “We’ll spend this summer hunting ghosts! And,” he waggled his eyebrows, “Maybe a demon or two!”

“Why must you be like this?” Stan sighed in exasperation. “We don’t _want_ to come across a demon. That’s literally asking for major trouble.”

“Plus, we’ve already met you,” Eddie teased.

“If there’s any demon in this town, Spaghetti, it’s your mom, ‘cause damn is she a demon in the sack!” Bev got off the couch, sitting next to Ben as Eddie launched himself at Richie. They wrestled, Richie gaining the upper hand as he laughed joyfully. Eddie pretended that he was really put out by being trapped under Richie and tried to convince himself he wasn’t at all excited for their next adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a ROLL right now. I do that. I usually am on a roll for a while, then like, lose my muse, but I think I have enough to push through to the end of my ideas for this. I may eventually like, get funny scary? More like Tucker and Dale versus Evil type stuff. I dunno.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this!  
Unbeta'd  
I don't know about video editing and Imma be real, I'm lazy as hell, so I'm gonna gloss over that. Soooooo yehyeh.

They spent the next week collecting materials and money. Ben and Mike dedicated their time to finding video equipment. Derry’s pawn shop didn’t have a very wide selection, of course, so they had traveled to a few different towns to collect what they could. Bill and Richie collected their money together, practically shoving it at Mike to deal with. It was for the best, honestly. And it worked in their favor. With all their money pooled together, they were able to afford two cameras, some cables, a tripod, and a bunch of other shit Eddie zoned out before hearing. It wasn’t his job anyway.

Beverly began by looking for different places they could shoot at. Bill kept suggest they start with the Neibolt house, and since only Richie agreed with him, he realized it was maybe not the best place to begin with.

“Well what ab-b-bout the a-abandoned hospital in the n-n-next t-town over?” Bill pointed at it on the map. “It’s f-far enough th-that we wouldn’t g-g-get caught, b-but not so f-f-far that we c-couldn’t d-do it in a day!”

“Well, we’d be going at night of course,” Richie said. “But yeah, I see your point.”

“Overnight?” Eddie sucked in a breath. “My mom would fucking flip!”

“So we don’t tell her, Spaghetti,” Richie droned. “God, how long has it been since you tried to remove that stick from your ass.”

“Oh fuck you! Going to an abandoned hospital with needles and stains, and, and, and a bunch of other disgusting shit every where is a dumb idea!” Eddie was freaking out a bit. He’d broken his arm back when they were kids, exploring the Neibolt house for the first time. They hadn’t gotten far, just upstairs, before the floor broke and he fell through. That had been a shitty summer. He hadn’t been able to see anyone, his mother kept him holed up for weeks until he finally broke out, and he didn’t want it happening again this summer.

“Okay,” Bev said, trying to stop the fight before it really started, “Richie, it _is_ going to be dangerous and we gotta keep that in mind. Eddie, we’re not gonna be murdered and we’ll make sure you are always in the middle, okay? That way you won’t be the first to fall.” Eddie groaned.

“Why, why, why do I always agree to go along with this shit?”

“Because you looooove us,” Richie crowed. “Eddie loooooves his friends!” He made exaggerated kissing noises, smacking his lips against Eddie’s cheek. Eddie flushed bright red and shoved him, kicking at his shin for good measure.

“Cut that out!” He yelled. Bev and Bill rolled their eyes, sharing a look that Richie missed. Eddie saw them though, and pursed his lips. He shoved his way in between them, making sure to keep opposite of Richie. “Fine. We’ll go to the fucking abandonded hospital. But don’t be surprised when I get to say I told you so!” Richie let out a whoop.

“That’s what your mom said to me last night!”

“Fuck OFF, Richie! That doesn’t even make sense!”

\--

They decided that Mike, Bill, Ben, and Richie should all check out the place during the day and plot out a map of where to go. Ben had done his research, so he knew what rooms were supposed to have the most activity. Mike had a natural sense of direction, so he could plot the map based on Ben’s direction. Bill and Richie were, well, Bill and Richie, so they wanted to go too.

Eddie and Bev took the time to catch up.

“So you still haven’t talked to him? Eddie, it’s been almost 8 years!” Bev took a sip of her coffee, sighing obnoxiously. “He’s so obviously into you too.”

“Well, I’m not saying anything until he does, which he never will because he doesn’t like me like that,” Eddie snapped. He sighed, blowing at the foam on top of his tea latte. “Besides, I doubt even if he kind of liked me that he’d wanna actually be with me. I’m an asshole and--”

“Oh my god,” Bev groaned. “So is he! I know you’re nervous, so I’m not gonna push it anymore right now, but for the love of god, have you at least gotten laid recently?”

“Well,” Eddie blushed, “I mean, I blew a guy at an end of year party?” It had been quick, gross, and the guy hadn’t warned him when he was about to cum, which, ew. Fucking gross. Bev eyed him and then frowned. He sighed. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Honestly, Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you.” She rested her chin in her hand. “If you’re not going to say anything to Richie, why not go out with someone else?” Eddie fiddled with his hands in his lap, worrying his lip. “I know, I know,” she sighed. “Maybe, well, talk to him before we graduate?” Her voice was hushed and it made Eddie’s skin prickle in fear.

“Maybe,” he said, not really meaning it. She definitely knew, if the look she shot him was anything to go by, but he didn’t really care. “Anyway, how are things with Ben?” Bev lit up and began talking a mile per minute.

\--

“Okay, so we mapped out a path that takes us on each level,” Mike said. He ran his finger along the map, showing the route they had planned. “We’ll start at the east entrance, go down the hall here, take the main stairs since they are the most sturdy, and then we’ll just go into the main room here--”

“It was so fucking cool in there,” Richie interrupted. “There’s like, graffiti and all sorts of decrepit hospital stuff, it’s gonna look fucking sweet.” Mike rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“It was pretty cool,” he agreed. “There was dust floating in the air and it was like, eerie but beautiful.” Ben nodded and Bill sat up straighter.

“Ben, y-you gotta t-t-tell them the s-s-stories!” He said excitedly.

“What stories?” Eddie frowned. Ben didn’t look at him. “What fucking stories?”

“Well,” Ben began slowly, “It’s pretty much your standard stuff. Bout of tuberculosis and then pneumonia, lots of kid deaths, this one kid had both, thought he saw the devil, and then died screaming.” Eddie stared at him, slack jawed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, licking his lips. “But, what did you say?”

“He died screaming?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mocked, “That’s what I thought, no _fucking_ way, Richie.”

“Eddie! Come on! It’s all stoned teens who saw the shit anyway,” he said.

“And we’re different how?”

“We’re young adults?”

“Guys,” Mike cut in, “It’s going to be fine. The kid’s room is our last stop, so like, we can even cut it if we really want.” Richie whined in protest. “As cool as it would be, Rich, if Eddie can’t do it, he can’t do it.” Eddie bristled and saw the exact moment Richie noticed.

“Yeah, you’re right. Eddie won’t do it, let’s just cut it out now.” Eddie clenched his fists, glaring at Richie, who had a stupid smug look on his stupid face. “It’s okay, Eddie Spaghetti,” he said in a teasing tone, “It’s okay to be scared.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Eddie grit out. “Fuck you, Tozier, I’m not falling for this.” Every single time Eddie wanted to back out, Richie would tease him until he got angry enough to do it. It worked every fucking time.

“Falling for what?” Richie said, faking confusion as he pressed a hand to his chest. “Why, I can’t even believe you’d suggest--”

“Ugh,” Eddie grunted in disgust, throwing his hands up, “Keep it in! Fine! Just stop doing that horrible accent.” It was his Southern Belle, and Eddie hated that it gave him tingles. Richie cheered and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

“Hell yeah! This is gonna be so cool,” his voice was tight with repressed excitement. Eddie glared up at him, but his breath caught in his throat at the soft look Richie had. His smile was small and genuine, eyes looking straight into Eddie, who thought his fake asthma might make a return if Richie kept looking at him like that. “Thanks,” he said softly. “And don’t worry,” he winked, “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Shove off,” Eddie grumbled, bright red. He elbowed away from Richie, who just laughed, and made brief eye contact with Bev. She looked like she wanted to say something, so he went and sat next to Stan, who was watching the proceedings with an amused smile.

“This is going to go up in flames,” Stan said fondly. Eddie snorted.

“You can say that again. I have no idea if Richie really knows what he wants to do.”

“He definitely knows _who_,” Stan muttered. Eddie flushed and looked at him.

“W-What?”

“Hm,” Stan gave him a bland look, “Oh, I didn’t say anything.” Eddie couldn’t tell if he was lying, but Stan had the best poker face out of all of them, somehow, so he just looked away. He’d probably misheard him anyway.

\--

Eddie stood in the main hallway of his house, eyes tightly shut as his mother went on and on.

“Oh but Eddie, you haven’t spent any time with me this summer,” she pleaded, “Don’t you love me? Your friends always get to see you.” Eddie didn’t mention that she still only let him out on the weekends and a few hours in the evening (not that he followed that).

“I know, mommy, I’m sorry, but I promised Bill,” he said, his voice raising in a way he fucking hated. He hated that she still had such control over him.

“Eddie-bear, please,” she said wetly, lower lip wobbling in a grotesque way that made Eddie shiver.

“Mom, please,” he whispered. The silence was broken by a knock on the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey Mrs. K!” Richie called. “Can Eddie come out to play?” Eddie flushed red and stormed to the door. He snatched it open to Richie’s grinning face. He wiggled his fingers in a silent hello.

“Eddie, you didn’t tell me _that boy_\--”

“Bye, mommy!” He called, shoving Richie out of the way and slamming the door behind him. “Richie, what the fuck!

“What?” Richie laughed. “She hates me anyway, so whatever.”

“It’s hard enough convincing her to let me hang out with Bill, much less you!” Richie just shrugged and Eddie huffed, hiking his backpack further up his shoulder. Richie eyed it, raising a brow.

“What’s in there? Fucking Christ, Kaspbrak.”

“It’s as complete a first aid kit as I could make for on the go,” Eddie explained. Richie snorted.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking adorable, Eddie.” He ruffled his hair, making Eddie blush and slap his hand away.

“Shut up, Tozier,” he said, without any real heat. They walked in silence for a short while, before Eddie couldn’t take it. “So why did you stop by and not Bill?”

“Aw, Eds, what? Am I not good enough for you?” Richie sighed dramatically, pressing his wrist to his forehead. “Oh, woe is me! Not good enough for Edward Kaspbrak!”

“Ugh, shut up!” Eddie growled. “I was just curious, dick weed!” Richie let out a surprised laugh that sent shivers down Eddies spine. He walked faster, annoyed at how quickly Richie caught up.

“Bill had to stop and grab flashlights, so I came by,” he said casually. Eddie narrowed his eyes.

“Wasn’t it _your_ job to get those?” Richie gave him innocent puppy eyes and Eddie smiled against his own will. “You lazy motherfucker.”

“That’s me!” Richie said cheerfully. There was the sound of footsteps behind them, and then Bev was between them, hanging off their shoulders. Richie caught her weight easily, but Eddie stumbled. Bev held him up and kissed his cheek.

“Sorry!” She smiled and Eddie rolled his eyes, but smiled back. “I’m so excited! This is gonna be so much fun!” She was trying to keep her voice and excitement down, but was obviously losing the battle. Richie pulled her down for a noogie and she shrieked with laughter, shoving at him. Eddie watched, jealous. They got to Bill’s house and sat on the curb, waiting for him and Mike.

“Eddie here has us all covered on the first aid front,” Richie teased.

“Oh my god, do you ever let things go? Jesus,” Eddie hissed. Richie stuck his tongue out at him with a grin.

“Hey guys!” Billy called as he pulled up. Mike was in the passenger seat and he gave them a wave. Richie opened the door for Eddie.

“Milady,” he squawked in a horrible British accent. Eddie flushed with embarrassment.

“I am not sitting in the middle, also fuck you,” he said blankly. RIchie pouted.

“But you fit the best!” Eddie flushed some more and crossed his arms. RIchie groaned. “Ugh fine, fine, I’ll do it!” Eddie suddenly got a flash of being pressed against RIchie and the door and blanched. He rushed forward, sliding in.

“I was just making you sweat, Tozier,” he said, hoping his voice was steadier than it sounded to him. Bev was buckled in on the other side already, smiling at him. He frowned at her and slid in, putting his backpack on his lap after buckling up. Richie slid in beside him. Bill started up the car and Richie rested his arm along the back of the seats, his fingertips brushing Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie was tense the entire way there.

\--

The hospital was small, but tall. It was three stories, and most of the windows were boarded up. Eddie balked at the sight of it, gripping his backpack tightly. RIchie’s eyes were twinkling in the moonlight, excitement clear on his face. They got out of the car, setting Mike up with the camera and makeshift boom mic. Richie attached a flashlight to the top and turned it on, yelping when it went on right in his face.

“Dumbass,” Eddie called. Mike snickered and shooed them into place. Eddie was suddenly nervous. He slipped his backpack on, gripping the straps with sweaty hands. Richie squeezed his shoulder, making him jump.

“I got you,” he said under his breath, loud enough for only Eddie. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips.

“3...2...1...Go!” Mike shot them a thumbs up, and RIchie smirked.

“Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to Debunking Derry!” He said, his voice echoing in the night. Bev snickered and Bill smiled. Eddie rolled his eyes. “My name is Richie, these,” he said, putting on his announcer voice and gesturing to Bev, Eddie, and then Bill, “Are my friends Beverly, but please call her Bev, Eddie Spaghetti, and Big Bill!”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped. Richie snorted and ruffled his hair, prompting Eddie to shove him off.

“We live in a small town called Derry,” Richie explained. He gestured around him, “It’s fucking weird as hell here. There’s been a shit ton of children deaths, as well as adults, and there’s more abandoned sites than you can count on two hands.”

“That’s not a lot, dip shit,” Eddie muttered. Richie shot him and amused look, grinning wide.

“Anyway,” he drawled, focusing back on the camera, “Tonight we’re going to explore the supposedly haunted Vernon Heights Hospital!” He smirked at the camera. “Now, I know it looks dangerous, but not to worry folks! We’ve got good ol’ Eddie here to take care of us with his, travel size mind you, first aid kit!” Richie spun Eddie without warning, gesturing to his backpack.

“Fuck you!” Eddie snapped, turning back around. “I have the essentials!” He held out his hands, raising a finger as he listed items. “Neosporin, alcohol wipes, band aids of all sizes, some waterproof ones too, gauze, bandages, ace bandages, liquid band aids, wipes--”

“Okay, okay, boy scout” Richie laughed, ruffling Eddie’s hair in the way he didn’t like a lot, no way. “According to our research specialist, Beautiful Ben,” he said, winking at the camera, “This place was the site of,” he paused, thinking. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“It was the site of not only a bought of tuberculosis, but one of pneumonia as well!” Bev said, stepping forward. “A lot of kids died here.”

“T-There was one,” Bill said, “T-T-That caught b-both of them. O-One night, he claimed that he s-s-s-saw the devil.”

“Taunting him,” Bev added solemnly. Richie let out an exaggerated ‘ooh’ and Eddie elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

“He died s-s-screaming that n-night.” Bill finished with a flourish. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine and he turned, looking at the building. Ivy grew between each brick, worn down by the weather through time and neglect. Eddie inhaled sharply when he felt a breath on his ear.

“RICHIE!” He shrieked, batting at him with his fists. RIchie let out a peal of laughter, almost giggling with glee.

“I got you so good!” He threw his head back, laughing harder, and Eddie paused, eyes zeroing in on Richie’s throat. He licked his lips and swallowed, huffing off. “Aw, Eds, come back!”

“Don’t call me that you asshole!” Eddie shouted back, realizing he was stomping off towards the hospital. He stopped, looking up at it again. He heard running footsteps and then he was lifted onto Richie’s shoulder with a screech.

“PUT ME DOWN!” He cried, kicking his legs wildly. Mike focused the camera back on Bill and Bev, who shared a knowing look and laugh. The sound of Richie’s laughter as he collapsed under Eddie echoed off the building and into the night.

\--

The inside of the hospital was filthy. Disgustingly filthy and no better than walking outside. Maybe even worse. Leaves and dirt covered almost every surface, stained mattresses lining the rooms. Eddie shivered at one that had varying shades of brown. He didn’t even want to know what happened there. Bev was leading the way, Richie behind her, Eddie behind him, and Bill and Mike making the back. Eddie cautiously stepped over a mysterious puddle, eyeing it with distrust. He heard Mike snickering and shot him a dirty look.

It was honestly pretty banal. Nothing happened. No moving of furniture, no whispers in ears, no scratches or bites. Eddie was almost disappointed. Richie played up each story, giving people voices and inevitably going off to bug Eddie while Bev and Ben finished up. Eddie protested, but loved that even in a disgusting haunted hospital, Richie gave him all his attention. It was exhilarating and he _really_ needed to get a hold on himself.

They were on their way to the third and final floor, the one where the boy’s room was. Eddie unconsciously gripped the back of Richie’s shirt, missing the way he smiled. He reached back and took Eddie’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eddie flushed and gripped the straps of his backpack again.

“Well,” Richie exclaimed dramatically, “This is the room where it all happened.”

“Ben said there wasn’t much backstory on the boy, just the night he died.” Bev said, looking at the ceiling and walls around her. Eddie stuck close to Richie, and that’s when he heard it. It sounded like the creak of a door, and a gentle push of wind. He jumped, turning to Richie, who had a pinched look on his face. He was shaking and Eddie realized he was trying not to laugh. He scrunched up his face in outrage.

“Did you just fart?!” He hissed. Richie burst out laughing, making Bill and Bev jump. Eddie struck him in the arm. “Fuck you!”

“G-Guys!” Bill said, huffing slightly. “Fuck!”

“Yeah!” Bev panted, clutching her chest. “Chill out for like two seconds, wouldya?” Eddie blushed and stomped away from Richie. They each looked throughout the room, Eddie not bothering to look closely at anything.

“Hello?” Bev called, looking up. “Anyone here?” Silence followed. Richie crossed his arms.

“Don’t be a pussy, come on!” Richie called. Bev rolled her eyes and shot him a warning look. He held up his hands in surrender. Eddie walked away from them, towards a closet in the back of the room. It was dark in there, darker than Eddie would have liked, and he clutched his flashlight to his chest. The floor creaked beneath him and his breath caught when he felt lips against his ear.

“Hello, Eddie.” Eddie clamped down on the squeak that came out of his mouth and spun, whacking at Richie. Who… Wasn’t There. He panted softly, looking around, and finally noticed the others were staring at him.

“Eddie,” Richie said, stepping forward, genuine concern on his face, “You okay?” Eddie hurried back over, not sparing the closet another glance.

“Yeah, just, it’s fucking creepy in here,” he muttered unconvincingly. Richie threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him close enough that Eddie could smell his aftershave. Timber, by Old Spice.

“Well folks,” Richie drawled in a Southern accent, “It’s ‘bout time we got on up outta here.” Eddie scoffed, but didn’t push away. “This place has been thoroughly debunked! Until next time, losers!” Mike turned off the camera and held up his hand for a high five.

“Hell yeah! That was awesome! It’s gonna look so good!” Richie laughed as Mike led them back out, chatting with Bill and Bev all the while.

Eddie couldn’t focus. He could have sworn that there was someone there behind him, whispering in his ear. _I mean_, he thought, _I even felt the heat of their breath!_ He shivered, suddenly getting the feeling of eyes on his back. He turned, looking at the hospital as they walked away, but there was nothing there. He shook his head, worried only for a moment that he was turning into his mother, and then shifted closer to Richie, suddenly very, very tired.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you those who have commented! I have said it before and I will say it again, I am a Leo and thrive off of positive attention. Even one person enjoying my stuff is *chef's kiss*
> 
> Unbeta'd  
I'll probs slow down a smidge here, gotta get more info from my pal on the occult before getting into this, but I'm still fucking GUNNING so,,
> 
> Yes Brewers is like Bowers ;)  
Hope y'all enjoy this tomfoolery.

It had only been 3 days, and they had 548 views. Richie was practically bursting with excitement at any given moment. He couldn’t stop talking about where they should go next. Ben, bless him, somehow convinced him to also really listen to the stories behind them. Stan had done a great job, and probably saved the video. They’re awkward, obviously so, but of course, Richie, Bev, and Bill are all charmingly so, whereas Eddie just seems like a tiny gremlin. At least, in his opinion.

Currently, he was in his room with Stan. Apparently, there was something important for Stan to show him. Eddie hoped it wasn’t that one of his mom’s sisters saw the video. He’d waited anxiously until the boy arrived, his mother letting him in based on the fact that he was the cleanest of Eddie’s friends.

“So,” Stan began, “There have been some comments on the video I thought I should bring to your attention.” Eddie frowned.

“Like what? It’s not like they could be saying anything worse than what Bowers did.” Eddie unconsciously rubbed at his throat. Before being put away, Bowers had tried to choke him and drown him in a toilet. Mike had had it the worst, though, and still didn’t really talk about it. Eddie shook off the thoughts, focusing back on Stan, who looked far away. He soon also refocused, giving Eddie a bland smile.

“No, nothing like that,” he replied. “It’s more,” he sighed, “Fuck, how do I put this.” He muttered to himself before taking a deep breath and steeling himself. He looked at Eddie and exhaled sharply. “People are asking if you and Richie are dating.” Eddie could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He was faintly aware that his breathing was becoming increasingly rapid, his heart trying to pound out of his chest. Stan placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice far away. “Eddie, breathe!” Eddie gasped and clutched at Stan’s shirt, panting for a moment.

“Oh f-fuck,” Eddie whispered. “There’s no way Richie didn’t see those.” His voice came out in a pathetic whine and he pinched the inside of his elbow as punishment. Stan sighed.

“Yeah, but maybe that’s a good thing?” Stan suggested. “Now you have an opening to talk about your feelings.”

“What feelings?” Eddie’s words nearly rushed together he was speaking so fast. Stan gave him a sarcastic look.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said, annoyed. “I don’t know how Richie hasn’t seen it, but I can also say the same about you. You’re both idiots.” Eddie let out a shuddery breath and bit his lip. There wasn’t really anything he could say to that. He’d known it was cowardly. He’d been avoiding this for practically 8 years.

“I mean, I guess you’re right,” he muttered. “There’s no time like the present.” He tried for joyful, but it came out pained and weak. Plus, he couldn’t get his legs to move. Stan stood there for a moment and then sighed.

“Richie is probably in his basement if you want to find him,” he said, standing up. “Just so you know.” He left then, packing up his laptop, even though Eddie hadn’t even been able to look at the comments, saying goodbye to Eddie’s mother on his way out. Eddie sat there, unable to move. Despite it being dumb, there was a comfort in not asking Richie. Because convincing yourself you don’t have a chance, was so much better than knowing that Richie for sure didn’t like him that way. That he found him gross and someone to pity. Eddie let out a shuddery breath, counting to ten. He wasn’t gross, he wasn’t dirty, no matter what his mother told him.

She knew he was gay, but was in major denial. Eddie stopped bothering to correct her. Besides, if she knew that he was gay _and_ in love with Richie? She’d kill him herself. Eddie shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. It wasn’t the time for a pity party. He sighed and stood up, reaching for his inhaler before pausing. He clenched his hand, taking a deep breath in through his nose, before turning and heading out.

“Where are you going, Eddie-bear?” His mother’s voice rang from the living room. Eddie paused before back tracking.

“Over to Bill’s for a movie.”

“You’ve been at Bill’s so much, why not just stay home today?” She patted the space on the couch next to her, frozen smile on her face. “We can watch our shows together again.”

“M-Mom, maybe later,” Eddie grumbled.

“Speak up honey. Good boys speak with confidence and volume.” Eddie grit his teeth and sucked in a breath.

“Maybe later,” he said, louder this time. “It’s our last real summer together. At least, that’s how it feels.”

“Oh Eddie, okay. But try to be home earlier this time around?” He nodded and hurried out, not waiting for her to change her mind. He speed walked down the street, wondering how many people commented on his obvious flirting with Richie.

He had to apologize. There was nothing else to it. He knew it would end up obvious, but he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, people wouldn’t have noticed so quickly. He ran a hand over his face, groaning. Thinking back on it, he’s lucky he wasn’t bending over and saying “Fuck me!” in Richie’s face. He flushed and covered his face again, muffling a scream into his fist. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He paused outside the Tozier’s door. What was he even going to say? There was no time to knock, because Richie’s mother opened the door, pausing when she saw Eddie.

“Oh, hey there Eddie,” she said brightly. “Why don’t you go downstairs? Richie’s been moping down there all day, he could use some brightening up.” Eddie flushed and worried his bottom lip.

“Maybe I should come back later actually,” he mumbled. She scoffed and gently gestured towards the basement.

“Nonsense. Richie would love to see you.” She winked at him, and just to get her to stop, Eddie rushed downstairs. He heard her soft laughter for only a moment before he was downstairs, staring at Richie laying on the couch. He was sprawled out, limbs everywhere, and he was staring at the ceiling. He looked over at Eddie lazily, doing a double take and sitting up with a jerky motion when he saw him.

“E-Eddie!” Richie never stammered. Eddie raised an eyebrow, taking a step forward.

“I need to talk to you about something,” Eddie said, serious. Richie paled and stood up, hands out in a plactating manner. Eddie stopped, confused.

“Listen, I know it probably weirds you out, so I’ll stop with the touches and teasing okay?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “Like, I didn’t even realize how obvious I was being, you know? I didn’t think it was that bad.” He sent a pained and worried look at Eddie, who didn’t really know what was going on.

“What?” Eddie shook his head. “Wait, what?”

“I really, really like you, Eddie,” Richie breathed out. “I’ve been getting maybe a little too aggressive with my flirting, but no worries. I saw the comments, I’ll try to hold back, just please don’t hate me, okay?” Richie was pleading, Eddie realized. He was trying to compute everything, watching Richie deflate slowly as he stood there, silent. Finally, Eddie realized he needed to move, so he pushed forward, and kissed Richie with everything he’d been holding back.

Richie hummed in surprise, but his hands quickly came up to cup Eddie’s face. He pushed forward more, swiping his tongue at Richie’s lips. Richie met his intensity and Eddie could feel him smiling into the kiss. He pulled back after a moment, resting his forehead against his as he caught his breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Eddie whispered. Richie shivered and smiled wider, looking at Eddie like he was something wonderful.

“No fucking way,” Richie breathed. “I only realized I was bi because my college friends were convinced you were my boyfriend.” Eddie flushed.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Richie laughed. “I just thought everyone wanted to spend their time with you and touch you and thought you were the cutest thing in the world.” Eddie smiled and gently whacked him on the shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie licked his lips, blushing. “Since that dance in eighth grade.” Richie’s eyebrows shot up and he froze, mouth agape.

“No fucking way.” Richie looked upset almost, and Eddie pulled back, getting nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he laughed nervously. “It’s kinda ridiculous, I know, but I just figured you wouldn’t be interested, you know?” His voice rose in pitch as he spoke and he turned red. How fucking embarassing. He had looked so cool for a split second before ruining it. Before he could pull away even more, Richie pulled him closer.

“That must have sucked,” he said, serious for once. “I’m always so,” he sucked in a breath, “_Fuck_, Eddie. I’m so sorry.” Eddie couldn’t take it, this feelings talk, so he just pushed forward and kissed Richie again.

“Stop pitying me. If you want my forgiveness, kiss me, you fucking idiot.” Eddie flushed, cursing his mean streak, but Richie just smirked in a way that ignited heat in his belly. Richie kissed him then, cupping his chin gently as he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him onto the couch. Richie sat, hard, and Eddie fell onto his lap. He shuffled so he was kneeling above him, arms draped over his shoulders. Richie bit at Eddie’s lips in a way that made him squirm. He pulled back, biting his bottom lip and grinding down against Richie, who let out a gasp as he tossed his head back.

“F-Fuck,” he said breathlessly. Eddie smirked and kissed by his ear, relishing in the sharp inhale it caused. Richie gripped his hips and trembled beneath him. “Listen, as much as I, ah, wanna continue, I also kinda wanna talk about this?” Eddie pulled back, giving him a sour look. Richie at least looked apologetic. “This isn’t just like, for fun right?” His fingers were absently playing with the hem of Eddie’s shirt, ghosting over his sides. Eddie ran his fingers through Richie’s hair, smiling fondly.

“I just told you I’ve been in love with you since eighth grade, I think you can safely assume I’m fucked over you,” Eddie said, mouth getting in gear before his brain. He flushed brightly, but relished in the grin Richie wore. It spread across his face slowly, joyful and bright, before shifting into something much, much better. Richie moved forward, sucking at the hollow of Eddie’s neck. Eddie let out a surprised grunt and clutched Richie’s shirt in his fists. Richie bit gently, swiping his tongue across it as he pulled back. Eddie was positively shaking, biting his lip so hard he was about to draw blood. Richie stopped, smirking up at him, and Eddie kissed him again, smiling against his lips.

\--

“What if we pretended we weren’t dating?” Richie said. They had kissed for a while before just cuddling on the couch, wrapped up in each other now that they could be. Eddie just shot him a bored look.

“Bev will know the minute she walks in,” he said. Richie waved his hand dismissively.

“No, no, not from our friends. We’re dumb as a group, but not that dumb,” he snorted. Eddie raised a brow, judging his _boyfriend, omg_, ever so slightly. “I mean from our viewers. Like, make it good, for the show.” Eddie let out a scoff.

“No one would be interested in that.”

“Au contraire,” Richie said, horribly mispronouncing the words, “That’s what most of the comments were. How ‘delicious’ and ‘cute’ our interactions were. ‘Like second graders pulling pigtails’ was someone’s comments.” Eddie flushed because, yes, that’s exactly what it was, but just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said, feigning indifference, but thrilling at the thought of it. As long as their friends knew, he didn’t care. He pulled a face. “Ugh, actually, yeah. If my mom’s sisters see it, they’ll rat on me and I’ll already be in trouble for going to those places, much less kissing you. On camera, even.” Richie snickered. He sobered up after a moment.

“Hey, I can totally just give you hickies on your chest, so you can hide them from your mom, by the way.” Eddie gaped in shock, stunned, and then covered his face and groaned.

“You can’t just,” he huffed out, “_say_ shit like that!”

“What? That I love sucking on your neck?” Eddie muffled his shriek into his hands and squirmed away from Richie, who just laughed and pulled him closer.

\--

Eddie fidgeted on the couch as he waited for everyone else to arrive. Richie was next to him, their hands intertwined between them. Richie was reading the notes Ben had shared with them, at the last minute of course, and Eddie was trying to not distract him. He looked over from the corner of his eye, following the line of Richie’s profile. He had his face pinched in concentration, tongue sticking out ever so slightly. Eddie smiled, taking it all in, when someone cleared their throat. Eddie snapped his head to the stairs, locking eyes with a smug Bev and a smiling Ben.

“I told you so,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. Ben looked ready to burst, the romantic. Richie pulled Eddie over, tugging lightly on his arm, and wrapped his arms around him, setting down his phone.

“It’s official,” He said, putting on his Southern Spectator voice, “Lil’ Ol’ Eds and me done hooked up!” Eddie elbowed him roughly, gritting his teeth.

“Shut up, you dickhead!” He hissed. Richie just laughed and kissed his cheek with a loud smack. Eddie did his best to look bored and not completely happy. “And don’t call me that,” he muttered.

“Hmm, would baby be okay then?” Richie purred into his ear. Eddie turned red and he squirmed away, or at least tried. “Sweetie? Doll face? Nugget?”

“SHUT UP!” Eddie yelled, finally giving up and settling for crossing his arms and turning his face away from Richie. They were broken from their flirtation by a happy sigh. They turned to see Bev holding back laughter, and Ben gazing at them like they were the cutest in the world.

“Finally!” Bev cheered, plopping down on the bean bag chair. Ben sat next to her and took her hand. She intertwined her fingers with his, smiling. The sound of Bill and Mike stomping down the stairs grabbed their attention. Bill sat next to Ben and started unpacking his bag while Mike paused at the bottom of the stairs. Stan followed quietly behind him, eyes flicking up when he came to a stop behind Mike. The two of them both smiled, Mike’s wider and longer lasting, when they saw Eddie on Richie’s lap. They looked at Bill expectantly.

Bill looked up and around them room, confused.

“W-What?” He asked quietly.

“Seriously?” Bev choked out a laugh, snorting. Bill furrowed his brow and looked around the room again. Ben, Bev, Richie and Eddie, Mike, Stan… He snapped his head back to the couch and perked up.

“You guys! Finally!” He cheered. Richie smiled and Eddie flushed again, hating how easy he was to rile up. Richie kissed his shoulder and then rested his head against it.

“Finally is fucking right,” he said happily. Eddie pursed his lips, holding back a smile. Richie took it as an invitation, and honestly, it kind of had been.

\--

“So, where next?” After congratulations, they got down to business. Richie and Eddie talked about their idea, and the group had loved it. Stan had decided to start looking up edits for ideas of what people found appealing and funny. Richie threatened to kiss him and Stan had rolled his eyes and told Eddie to do it. Mike kept trying to get them to pay attention.

“I mean, people always like the creepy kid angle, right?” Richie suggested. Everyone groaned, but they knew he was pretty much right.

“There’s the old orphanage,” Ben suggested. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly uncomfortable. “While it’s not uncommon for small towns to hide their bigotry well, Derry has such a high record of hate crimes, violent deaths, and hate in general, that it itself in an anomaly. This orphanage is, unfortunately, a good example.” Eddie clenched his fist, wishing he could take Richie’s hand. He then remembered he could, and he gripped it tightly in his fist. Richie squeezed back, keeping his focus on Ben.

“What happened?” Bev asked, voice gentle.

“So,” Ben said, exhaling sharply, “The orphanage was home to mostly immigrant Irish kids and kids of, uh, ‘lower society’?” He flinched, hating to even kind of suggest someone was unimportant. “So they got teased and bullied and, god, even had rocks thrown at them.”

“F-Fuck,” Bill whispered.

“Yeah. There was this kid, Norman Brewers, who like, tortured animals,” Mike let out a pained breath, “and then moved onto these kids.” He sighed, rubbing his arm nervously. “He tortured and killed some kids there. Apparently, during the week around the attack, you are guaranteed to hear and see stuff. Day of is the worst. That’s not for a while, but it’s still pretty active otherwise apparently.”

“That’s fucking heavy,” Richie muttered, taken aback.

“That’s Derry,” Ben said, sighing. Eddie had forgotten, honestly, how disgusting this town was. He didn’t come back more than he needed to, always skyping his mom to make up for it. But sitting here, listening to the horror stories of the past, brought back memories he had wished stayed buried. “What’s weird about it,” Ben said, “Is that it’s only the kids you hear. They haunt the place, supposedly, asking for help, punishing people who laugh or taunt them, but Brewers isn’t there.”

“Weird,” Mike said. “Makes me a little more inclined to believe it though, if it has limits.” Eddie bit his lower lip, frowning.

“When do we want to do this?” He asked. Though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, getting it over with was very enticing.

“This weekend,” Mike replied. “Thought maybe if you hung out with your mom some this week, she might let you out for the whole weekend.” He smirked. “But seems like you might have other plans.” Eddie flushed.

“Fuck off,” he said without any bite.

“No worries,” Richie said smugly. “I’ll just sneak into his window.” He draped his arm over Eddie’s shoulder and nuzzled his head. Eddie half assedly pushed him away, unable to hide his smile.

“If I call her every few hours too, she might just say yes, but you all owe me fucking _big_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright...
> 
> Here we go buddies. Thanks to my pal inkssend, I know what this monster is gonna be, and we have a trajectory for this weird ass bullshit. This gay weird ass bullshit.
> 
> Also, thank you thank you for the comments 😭 y’all are 💖
> 
> Unbeta'd  
Hope you enjoy!

Richie made good on his word. At 10:37 PM, Eddie nearly shit his pants when there was a knock on his window. He clutched at his chest, turning with wide eyes that quickly narrowed. He stomped over and wrenched the window open, Richie smiling happily at him.

“Hey there, sugar,” he said. Eddie closed the window. Richie laughed loudly, prompting Eddie to throw the window open again.

“Shut up!” He hissed. “My mom is gonna hear you!”

“Oh, she already knows I’m here,” Richie said, making Eddie’s heart rate spike. “We just finished up, so I thought I’d visit--”

“I will fucking _kill_ you!” Eddie growled, pulling Richie into his room nonetheless. Richie snickered, almost falling flat on his face as he very ungracefully climbed through the window. Eddie huffed and went back to his desk. He tried to casually close the laptop without drawing Richie’s attention.

“Whatcha looking at, Spaghetti?” Richie teased, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. While it must have been uncomfortable, Eddie couldn’t help the giddiness the casual touch caused.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly. Richie tutted and snatched the laptop up before Eddie could close it, smirking when he saw what was open.

“Are you looking at the comments about us? Aw, that’s so cute!” Eddie grabbed his laptop back.

“I was just curious what gave me away,” he mumbled. Richie seemed plenty happy to let it go, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. He leaned into the touch, tilting his head to the side so he could look up at him. “My mom once again tried to guilt trip me into never leaving her, but I promised I’d watch her shows with her tomorrow and the next day, so I’ll be able to go out this weekend.”

“Oof,” Richie huffed, “Doesn’t she only watch soap operas?”

“Yep,” Eddie replied. He groaned and closed his eyes, starting to melt into Richie, who pulled them towards Eddie’s bed. “I really hate them. The next place we go needs to be clean, okay? That’s my payment for dealing with my mother.”

“I mean, we can do that, but I had some other ideas…” Richie gently ran his hand up and down Eddie’s side, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. Eddie shuddered and flipped around, pressing Richie to sit on the edge of his bed. Richie leaned back on his hands, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Eddie flushed but leaned into Richie’s space, kneeling above him on the bed. “Yeah,” Richie whispered, breathless, “Something like this is good…”

Eddie shut him up with a kiss. It was probably going to be his new favorite method of shutting Richie up. His lips were chapped, fucking of course, but Eddie found that he didn’t really mind. He nervously swiped his tongue along the seam of Richie’s lips, feeling proud when he shivered and opened his mouth.

“Eddie?” His mother’s voice called from behind his door. “Are you changing, sweetie? Unlock the door so I can get my kiss good night!” Eddie shoved off of Richie, who scrambled off the bed.

“Fuck!” Richie hissed. “Fuck fuck!”

“Get in the closet!” Eddie whispered, freaking the fuck out. “Now!” Richie shot him a shit eating grin, which made Eddie want to beat the shit out of him, because this was _not_ funny in the slightest, but got into the closet. Eddie straightened himself out and unlocked the door.

“Hi mommy,” he said softly. “Sorry. I must have forgotten to unlock it after changing.”

“Are you ok?” His mother asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I thought I heard another voice in here.”

“That was my laptop!” Eddie said, wringing his hands together so they wouldn’t shake. “Just some dumb video Richie sent me.” He winced, regretting that Richie’s name was the first to come to mind. His mother frowned.

“I don’t trust that boy,” his mother said. “I hear he’s, oh what was the word, bisexual, which means he has twice as much sex. You don’t need to be around that kind of influence.” She sighed, acting put upon. “I really wish you wouldn’t hang out with such a gross boy.”

“I know, mom,” Eddie whispered, face burning with embarrassment and shame.

“But you never listen to me, Eddie,” she said, crocodile tears forming in her eyes.

“I do,” he mumbled meekly, angry at himself for bending to his mother. Again.

“Are you going to see him this weekend? Because maybe you should just stay home,” she began.

“I-I’m not!” Eddie stammered, panic gripping his chest.

“Eddie, I want to believe you, but you always lie to me about who you’re with!” Her lower lip wobbled. “Don’t you trust me?” Eddie was silent, clenching his fists so tightly, he was nearly breaking the skin. He nodded, unable to trust his voice. She sighed, hugging him to her suffocatingly. “Well, I suppose I can give you one more chance.” Eddie didn’t move, just stared to the side wishing she would let him go. “Good night dear. Don’t stay up too late.” She waited for him to kiss her cheek before heading to bed, leaving his door wide open when she left. He didn’t close it until he heard her door shut.

Eddie let out a shaky breath and pressed his forehead against the door frame. He felt like such a doormat. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes and he rubbed at them aggressively. The closet door creaked open and Richie’s footsteps padded over in his direction. Long arms pulled him around, wrapping him in a gentle hug. Eddie inhaled deeply, trying to cover the smell of his mother’s perfume with the smell of Richie. He clung to him for a moment, calming down as Richie ran his fingers through his hair.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I’m honestly flattered she thinks I get twice as much sex, ‘cause I’ve actually been having way less since coming out--” Eddie shoved him weakly, letting out a watery laugh. Richie pressed a kiss to his temple before pulling him to the bed. They cuddled up, Richie wrapped around Eddie protectively.

“You’ll have to leave before she wakes up,” Eddie whispered. Richie kissed the top of his head.

“I will. Just sleep, okay?” He didn’t need to be told twice.

\--

Eddie was so relieved when the weekend finally came. He told his mother he was going to Stan’s, since she would be much happier if he was spending his weekend there, and shot out of the house as quickly as he could. The past two days had been brutal. His mother didn’t do much besides warn him off Richie again and again during commercial breaks. Eddie was just happy she didn’t _actually_ know what bisexual meant, or he’d probably never be able to leave his house. Not as long as Richie was in town. He sighed and kicked at a rock, wishing his mother had kept his bike.

“Hey.” Eddie jumped, not having heard Stan approach on his bike. Stan gave him a small smirk. “Sorry, thought you heard me.”

“I don’t know why I agreed to this crap,” Eddie grumbled. “I can barely handle being snuck up on. If we actually find something,” he paused and shuddered. Stan nodded.

“Richie just needs to get whatever this is out of his system,” he said. “Besides, this town may be weird, but I highly doubt we’ll find much of anything.”

“Do you believe in this stuff?” Stan frowned.

“I mean, I don’t know that I believe in it the way Richie does--” Eddie snorted, “--but life energy is strong and not something you mess with. It’s really, really stupid to mess with things you don’t understand.” He shrugged. “But ‘Stupid’ and ‘Mess With Things I Don’t Understand’ are Richie’s middle names.” Eddie laughed.

“You fucking got that right,” he agreed, smiling.

“Plus, you guys aren’t trying to contact or create anything, so you’re probably okay.” He frowned and readjusted his kippot, blue today to match his shorts. “Still, I’d be careful.” Eddie shot him a blank look. Stan just smirked.

When they arrived, Stan broke off to talk with Richie’s mom, while Eddie made his way to the basement.

“You’ll never convince Eddie,” he heard Mike saying. “Hell, you may never convince _me_ that that’s a good idea, Tozier.”

“But it’d be so cool!” Richie whined. Eddie paused at the bottom of the stairs, frowning, with his eyebrows raised. Richie spotted him and scrambled over, nearly tripping over the beanbag chair in the process. “Eds! Eddie!”

“Don’t call me that, and the answer is no.”

“You haven’t even let me tell you,” Richie said. “Please please please just hear me out!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but gestured for Richie to continue. “What if we slept in the orphanage overnight?”

“Are you serious?” Eddie deadpanned. He looked to Mike,who just shrugged helplessly. “You’re serious.” Richie gazed at him with puppy dog eyes, jutting out his lower lip obscenely. Eddie tried to not focus on the thought of how those lips felt. “No, no _fucking_ way, Richie.”

“But I feel like we’ll get better footage if we are there long enough for the ghosts to feel comfortable with us!” He threw his hands up and sighed, collapsing dramatically on the couch. “Fine, fine! You party poopers.”

“Maybe another time?” Mike offered. Eddie sighed and gave a short nod.

“Only if the place is clean and I get to sleep in an _actual_ bed.” Richie smiled and made grabby hands at him. Eddie flushed, but went and sat next to him anyway.

“God, and I thought you two couldn’t get more touchy feely,” Mike said with a smile. They flipped him off simultaneously.

\--

“Hello, hello and welcome back to Debunking Derry,” Richie crowed. “Tonight, our story gets a bit sad--”

“A bit?” Eddie scoffed.

“--So be warned! Behind me is the Ridley Orphanage.”

“It was built in 1876 and housed mostly the children of Irish immigrants as well as those classified as ‘lower class.’” Bev added.

“I-It was never a h-happy place,” Bill said sadly. “There w-w-was abuse, emotional and ph-ph-physical, by not only t-the caregivers, b-b-b-but the town in general.” Bev took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“In the early 1900s,” Eddie said, sweating as he tried to remember what all he had been told to say, “Things got a lot worse. This kid, Norman Brewers, kidnapped three of the kids and tortured them in the basement.”

“It was gruesome and violent, and we’ll add a link in the description for anyone who wants to read up more on this asshole, but he’s not why we’re here tonight!” Richie said, slinging an arm over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Except he is,” Eddie said. “Like, he doesn’t matter, but he is literally the reason we’re here.”

“Do you try to be as contrary as possible, or is that just a gift,” Richie said. Eddie flipped him off.

“W-We’re here,” Bill cut in, “To see i-if we can c-c-catch a glimpse o-of the children.”

“Supposedly,” Bev said, obviously tamping down on her excitement, “The kids appear to people most often on the day of the attack, as well as the week surrounding it, but they are still pretty active regardless.”

“We’re talking scratches, we’re talking voices, we’re talking footsteps where there shouldn’t be footsteps,” Richie said, taking on what he called his ‘Used Car Salesman’ voice. “And, on one memorable occasion, a straight up death.” He wiggled his fingers, trying to be spooky, and Eddie elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a small ‘oof,’ momentarily distracted.

“Be fucking respectful, dickhead,” Eddie snapped. Richie just grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

“Apparently,” Bev stepped between them, “There was a guy who was mocking the kids, and I mean like, desecrating the site, and he disappeared from his group. Next morning, he was found where the kids were, in exactly the same way.” Eddie paled, biting his bottom lip.

“Which is w-why we’re going to b-b-behave and n-not say provoking s-s-sh-shit,” Bill warned, looking directly at Richie.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie said. “I may be dumb, but I don’t have a death wish.”

\--

Inside the orphanage was less dirty than the hospital, but god, it came close. Eddie pulled his shirt over his nose while passing a particularly disgusting and wet pile of trash. He and Richie had taken a camera, leaving Bev and Bill to do more expositional shots with Mike while they explored. Richie held Eddie’s hand in his, making sure to keep it out of the shot. So far, they hadn’t experienced much of anything. Richie let go of his hand, using both of his to steady the camera as he got a shot of some particularly graphic graffiti.

“Why are you like this?” Eddie asked, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him, that this was who he chose. Richie shrugged.

“Who knows what these symbols might mean. Best to check it out,” he winked at Eddie, who flushed.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled. “What’s the next active spot on our list?” Richie stood up and shut off the camera. He looked at Eddie, who noticed his pupils were blown. He gasped. “Are you,” he stammered out, “Are you fucking _turned on_ right now?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“It’s not my fault you’re so cute!” Richie whined. “You wore those _fucking_ red shorts!” Eddie flushed and licked his lips. Richie zeroed in and stepped forward, lightly pushing Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s breath hitched and Richie dove in, kissing him with _intent_. It was nothing short of the best kiss of his life. And it was in a fucking haunted orphanage. He clutched Richie’s shirt and pulled him closer, moaning softly into the kiss. Richie’s hands found his hips and gripped, tight, shooting sparks up his spine.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed, pulling back, “_Richie_.”

“Help me, please,” a voice pleaded from the hallway. Eddie’s eyes snapped open and he shoved at Richie’s shoulder.

“R-Richie, did you hear that?!” He whispered. Richie groaned and pulled back, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.

“I did not, please keep kissing me.” Eddie frowned, angry, and Richie sighed, pulling back.

“Help me, _please_!” And Richie definitely heard it this time. In one smooth motion, he pulled open and turned on the camera, aiming it at the doorway.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Richie called. Eddie gripped his arm, making a shushing motion. Richie ignored him, focused on the door.

“_HELP!_” This time, it was a piercing scream. Richie ran, pulling Eddie along behind him. Eddie couldn’t breathe. What the fuck was that? What the _fuck_ was that?! And _why_ were they following it?!

“Richie! Richie, I don’t think this is a good idea!” He yelled, unable to control his volume when _fucking terrified_. But he nearly ran into Richie, who had abruptly stopped in the middle of the hall. Eddie looked up at him, miffed, and noticed that Richie was staring at something. He swallowed, steeling himself, and turned his head.

A whisper of a child. Then nothing. Eddie was doing controlled breathing through his nose, hoping that his heart calmed down before full on bursting out of his chest. Richie hadn’t moved, camera still focused at the end of the hall. They both jumped when Richie’s phone began to ring.

“Hello?” Richie’s voice was hoarse.

“Hey!” It was muffled, but definitely Mike. “Where are you guys? You ready to go to the basement?”

“Yeah, actually, we need to talk about that,” Richie said, voice incredibly even.

“What happened?” Mike sounded concerned. But it was all so far, far away to Eddie, who felt like he might faint. He gripped Richie’s arm, suddenly woozy.

“We just fucking saw a fucking ghost,” Richie said, casually almost. Eddie let out an airy breath that might have been a laugh, then passed the fuck out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH. MY. GOD.
> 
> I am so overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter! Thank you all so much for your beautiful comments! I'm glad everyone is enjoying this as much as I am writing it!!
> 
> I'm not totally sure how I will be handling the horror yet; some may be gruesome, but I don't know if I'll do a like,, horror/comedy pair up or just straight horror. I'll probs go comedy because I'm Like That, but hey! Who really knows.
> 
> Unbeta'd

“UP HERE!” Richie called, gripping on to the unconscious Eddie tightly. Eddie had collapsed and Richie had barely caught him before he hit the ground. From there, he had gotten Eddie into his arms and lap, shaking slightly as he sat and leaned against the wall. He heard the other three running up the stairs and took a deep breath. Mike appeared first, kneeling next to them.

“What the hell?” Mike asked, eyes wide with shock. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know!” Richie squeaked. He swallowed and took some deep breaths. “We saw the ghost, it disappeared, you called, and he fainted!” Mike held out his hands in a plactating manner.

“Whoa whoa, okay,” he said. “He’ll be a bit out of it, but he should be okay.”

“Y-You actually saw a-a-a ghost?” Bill whispered, awestruck. “Really?”

“One of the kids. A little girl.” Richie was finding it hard to form words, for once in his life. He let his head thunk against the wall, looking up at the water stained ceiling.

“What did she look like?” Bev asked, kneeling on the other side of Richie.

“Like a scary ghost child? Old timey kid’s dress, hair in braids with like, ribbon or some shit, I dunno.”

“D-Did you get a s-s-shot of her?” Big Bill with the Big Question.

“I dunno,” Richie replied honestly. “I’m pretty sure I had the camera on and pointing at her, but I was a little distracted by the shriek and the _ghost right in front of me_!” His voice rose as he spoke, shock finally wearing off and letting hysteria in.

“Calm down!” Bev snapped. “I know this is a lot for you to handle right now, and you’re worried about Eddie, who is gonna come to soon, but chill out. Freaking out is not gonna be helpful.”

“Maybe I’m not trying to be helpful!” Richie snapped. “Maybe I’m trying to freak out!”

“Guys!” Mike pressed Richie’s shoulder back. “Now is not the time!”

“Where were you guys when it happened?” Bev asked. Richie groaned and ran a hand through his hair and over his face.

“In that room,” he said, gesturing weakly, “We were--” he paused, licking his lips, “We were just looking at some of the dumb shit on the walls when Eddie heard something. I didn’t hear it at first because I was, uh,” he floundered a moment, “Reading some of the graffiti.” Bev narrowed her eyes.

“Reading some graffiti,” she said, stone cold. Richie looked away, trying to keep his face innocent.

“Yep, uh huh, definitely.”

“What did it say?” She asked, tilting her head slightly in a way that certainly meant _I don’t fucking believe you one bit, Richie Tozier_, a look he was all too familiar with.

“It said, uh, it said--”

“I thought so.” She cut him off. “What were you doing?”

“Fine,” Richie sighed dramatically, “I may have pushed Eddie against the wall and we made out a little bit.”

“DUDE!” Mike and Bill exclaimed at the same time.

“W-W-What did I say b-before we c-c-c-came in?!” Bill shouted.

“Don’t say anything provoking? Which, I didn’t do!”

“Making out in a haunted house is--” Bev cut herself off with a shriek and tugged at her hair. “Richie, how dumb are you?!”

“He’s the one who wore the shorts!” Richie yelled back. Bev short him a dirty look and he withered back. “Which is not permission or reason,” he added quickly, “I just really like his thighs!” He turned red and bit down on his tongue, hoping maybe the pain would make him shut his mouth.

“We talked about this so goddamn much, Richie!” Bev shouted, angry. “The sites are treated with respect!”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “I gotta keep it in my pants, I know, I know, but what’s done is done so I really think we shouldn’t go to the basement!”

“This could’ve been so good!” Bev snarled, standing up. “But no, you just _had_ to suck face!”

“Guys,” Mike whispered.

“Look at him!” Richie said, gesturing to Eddie, who was still curled up against him. “Who wouldn’t want to suck this face?!”

“Guys,” Mike repeated urgently.

“You’re-- You’re--!” Bev huffed. “You’re so impossible sometimes!”

“GUYS!” Mike snapped, drawing everyone’s attention. He had pulled out his camera and was shooting something at the end of the hall. Richie, Bill, and Bev all looked. The hallway suddenly got _very_ cold.

A young girl and two young boys stood at the end of the hallway. There wasn’t anything particularly weird about the kids, just the fact that they weren’t really all there. It was like a channel almost in focus. They stared at the group, eyes blank and black. What made it chilling, what made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, that made Richie feel like there was lead in his stomach, was the way they looked at them. At _him_. Like they wanted to keep him. Like he was a pet. Bev grabbed Mike’s hand, and Mike grabbed Bill’s. The children stood there, staring them down.

“F-Fuck,” Bill whispered. “What d-d-d-do we d-d-do?!”

“Leave?” Richie suggested weakly.

“Please come help us,” the smaller boy said, his eyes still on Richie. “He wants to hurt us!” Bev stood slowly, eyes sad, and she took a few cautious steps towards the kids.

“Bev!” Mike hissed, turning the camera to her. “Bev, I know you’re a bleeding heart but we gotta get outta here!” She stopped, hand outstretched toward the kids. They moved forward, flickering a few feet closer. Mike helped Richie up slowly, making sure his grip on Eddie was strong.

“We need help,” the older boy said, “In case he comes back.”

“Stay!” The girl cried. “Stay!” The children began to scream, their cries over lapping as they reached out, flickering forward again.

“Fuck this!” Mike yelled. Bill grabbed Bev and shot down the stairs, Richie and Mike at their heels. Richie stumbled, almost dropping Eddie, who started to wake up.

“Mmwhat?” He mumbled, opening one eye. “What the hell?”

“Hold on tight, Spaghetti,” Richie said, hoping his voice sounded more cheerful than he felt. Eddie frowned at him but yelped, gripping Richie as he stumbled again. They burst out of the orphanage and Bill was already fumbling with his keys, trying to get his car to open.

“Anytime, Bill!” Bev shouted.

“S-Stop pulling a-a-at the d-doors!”

“Unlock the fucking car!” 

“Guys! Look!” Mike pointed behind them. Richie turned, sweating with fear and exhaustion. Eddie might have been small, but he was heavier than when they were younger.

There was nothing there. No children, no ghostly presences, nothing. Richie felt his heart start to slow down, but still. He didn’t trust like that. Bill finally unlocked the car and everyone scrambled in, Richie shoving Eddie into the middle before climbing in next to him. They peeled out of the parking lot, Mike getting a shot as they pulled away.

“So--” Richie said, breaking the tense silence in the car.

“I don’t want to hear a goddamn word from you right now,” Bev grit out. Richie’s mouth snapped shut.

“What happened while I was out?” Eddie said, rubbing his temples. “I remember the--” he choked on his own spit, coughing into his fist, “FUCK! The ghost!”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “It’s more like ghost-s. As in, plural.” Eddie shrank back against the seat, still shaky from fainting. Richie took his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“I s-seriously can’t b-b-believe you guys m-made out in a-a haun-haunted house!” Bill groused, arms crossed as he pouted in the front seat. Eddie turned red and glared at Richie, who smiled poorly through a face pinched in pain.

“You’re crushing my hand, Eddie,” he said sweetly.

“Why did you tell them?!” He hissed in response, slightly loosening his grip on Richie’s hand.

“We wanted to know what was happening before y’all saw the ghost,” Mike sighed. “If my bets are right, those kids thought it was poor form to make out in the place they were killed, and you guys were close to getting--”

“Killed,” Bev said, her voice weary. “You guys could have been killed.”

“I don’t know about that,” Richie mumbled. “Maimed a little, maybe.”

“I think we can all agree,” Mike began, “That what happened here tonight is not going to happen again. No more making out where children were killed. Think we can do that?” Eddie buried his face in his hands.

\--

“--AND ANOTHER THING!” Stan yelled. He was pacing back and forth, fuming. Eddie wasn’t sure he had ever seen Stan so angry. “Why didn’t you apologize?!”

“To… The ghost?” Richie asked.

“To whatever the fuck was there that you upset!” He snapped. Richie recoiled slightly and Stan sighed, rubbing his fingers against his temples. “You guys have some of the absolute _worst_ preservation instincts I have ever seen in my life.”

“Listen,” Ben said, his gentle voice cutting through the anger in the room, “I don’t think the spirits would have followed. That’s not the way things have worked, according to my research.” Bev shifted against him, trying to get as physically close as she could. “The guy who was killed disappeared and reappeared on site. Every scratch happened on site. Nothing followed anyone else home. I’d say just don’t go back there.”

“And maybe don’t go anywhere else,” Stan added. “Though I know that’s just wishful thinking on my part.” Everyone looked to Richie, who seemed to have zoned out. Before Eddie could nudge him, he let out a sigh.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he said, “I don’t want to stop. But I do wanna try to be safer.” He scratched the back of his head. “Honestly, I believed in this stuff, but in a distant sort of way. I never thought that anything like this would actually…” He snorted and buried his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“W-W-We have to ke-keep going.” Bill had his jaw set, eyes blazing.

“Oh boy,” Stan muttered, “Here we go.”

“I-I mean it! W-W-What other s-stuff is out th-there that p-p-people should know ab-b-bout? It’s our d-d-duty to--”

“Doody,” Richie chuckled into Eddie’s neck. Eddie slapped him as best he could from this position, which meant he lightly whacked Richie’s ear.

“To let p-people see! And kn-kn-know!”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow, maybe?” Bev asked quietly. Eddie noticed then just how tired she looked. And how tired he was. All of the energy seemed to suck out of the room, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

“Yeah,” Mike said, nodding. “I think that’s for the best. We can look at the footage then too.” No one moved, not wanting to leave the comfort of each other. Then, Richie stood up, grabbing blankets and pillows from the closet, as well as a few sleeping bags.

“I think,” he said, “We should have one of our signature Losers sleepovers tonight. Any objections?”

“Just a suggestion,” Bev said. “Can we please get fucking stoned?”

“Oh _fuck_ yes.”

\--

Eddie was one of the first awake the next morning. He’d also been one of the first to fall asleep. Richie was wrapped around him, drooling onto his shoulder. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, but only moved enough so Richie would drool on the pillow instead. They had decided against pulling out the couch, instead opting to create a fort of pillows and blankets. As childish as it was, Eddie had never been more grateful for his friends. Stan was asleep on the couch, frowning even in his sleep. Mike was sprawled out in the middle, Bill next to him on one side, Bev on the other. Ben wasn’t anywhere to be found, so Eddie assumed he was already up. Richie snorted and turned over in his sleep, releasing Eddie from his sweaty grip. Not that Eddie really minded, which he could think about later. First: Coffee.

Ben was talking to Richie’s mother, who seemed to be slicing bread for french toast.

“Is that--” Eddie began.

“Yes, challah french toast,” Maggie said with a smile. “I heard you guys had a rough night, so I thought I’d make Richie’s favorite.” She dipped a slice in her mixture of eggs, milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, before tossing it into a pan. It sizzled deliciously, filling the kitchen with a smell so warm it felt like a hug. Ben held out a cup of coffee and Eddie greedily chugged it, impressed that Ben got his cream and sugar ratio right. “Now, why don’t you two go wait in the dining room and I’ll finish up, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Tozier,” Ben said. “Just let me know when you’d like help cleaning up.” He left and Eddie went to grab more coffee, pouring sugar into his mug with abandon. He liked his coffee strong, sweet, and with a hefty amount of cream. At least when he could get it that way. His mother didn’t let him drink coffee.

“So, Eddie,” Maggie said, smiling brightly, “I hear that you and Richie finally sorted out your feelings!” Eddie gaped at her, turning bright red. She laughed at him and winked. “Don’t worry. You know I won’t tell your mother.” She bumped her hip against his and Eddie smiled into his mug. “I’m just happy my son got his head out of his ass and finally told you how he felt.” She turned to him, hand on her hip and spatula held out like a pointer. “Now, the rules are, we want you guys to be safe, so if you have sex here--”

“OKAYTHANKS.” Eddie yelled, rushing into the dining room, only turning more red when he heard her laughing heartily.

“Rough,” Ben said, patting Eddie’s shoulder in solidarity.

“HowcouldshejustSAYthattome,” Eddie rambled, his words rushing together in a way they hadn’t since he was a kid.

“My mom tried to have ‘the talk’ with both Bev and I, if that makes you feel better.”

“No!” Eddie screeched. “Now I think she’ll try to talk to me _and_ Richie, which is way, way worse!” Ben just laughed and Eddie reconsidered the whole ‘loving his friends’ thing.

“I smell food!” Richie yelled from downstairs. The sound of running was quickly followed by an array of thuds and yelps, Mike emerging from the basement beaming.

“Beat you both!” He declared, throwing his hands up in victory. Bill and Richie stumbled out of the doorway together, barely squishing through.

“You cheated!” Richie said, pointing at Mike in faux rage. “You distracted me with your beautiful ass!”

“I have to use my _ass_-ets somehow,” Mike teased. Richie snorted and gave him a high five. Stan and Beverly emerged, both less disheveled and less amused.

“Alright, troops!” Maggie called. “I have french toast and coffee!”

Once they had all settled in the dining room, Maggie practically forcing Eddie and Ben to sit back down, she had the dishes covered thank you, Mike cleared his throat.

“So, how is everyone this morning?” The question he was asking was pretty clear. Eddie wasn’t sure, though. Last night had been fucked in epic proportions and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to go looking for that kind of stuff again. Everyone else seemed to be in about the same boat.

“I mean,” Richie began, “I might need a few days, but I’m willing to get back to it.”

“Y-You guys know h-h-how I feel,” Bill said around a mouthful of food.

“If Bev’s okay, so am I.” Ben squeezed her hand and she smiled at him.

“Now that the shock and fear have worn off, I’m actually kind of pumped,” Bev admitted. “I mean, we saw ghosts!” She smiled, barely able to contain her excitement. “And we might have even caught it on camera!”

“I know right?!” Richie jumped in. “God, I hope I was filming that first time.” He looked to Eddie, his smile fading slightly. “What about you, Spaghetti Head?”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie mumbled reflexively. He bit his lip, thinking it over. He could back out, disappoint Richie, and spend the summer with his mom; or he could keep going and keep Richie from pulling more stupid shit. He groaned and thunked his head against the table. “Why do I like you again?” He grumbled into the table.

“Because of my tits,” Richie replied cheekily. Eddie thunked his head on the table again.

“Well,” Stan sighed, “I suppose I can’t stop you guys from making a dumb decision. Just be safe.” He glared at Richie, pointing his knife at him. “No more making out in haunted houses.” Richie crossed his heart and held up three fingers.

“Scouts honor.” Stan rolled his eyes, but smiled softly. Eddie thunked his head against the table once more, wishing for death. Richie put his hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles, while also fumbling his foot against Eddie’s in the worst attempt at footsie he had ever been subject to. Eddie smiled into the table, glad that no one could see.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F slur is used in this one. Also some gore mentions and stuff.
> 
> So! This chapter is split, because the time is passing for the Losers, but the Bowers stuff is one solid evening, which I imagine is happening at the same time the Losers are at the train station.
> 
> Hope it makes sense and that y'all like it!
> 
> Also, to the ppl who have said they are getting unsolved vibes, y'all are calling me out lol. I was watching it when I came up with this. Their dynamic _is_ Richie and Eddie, just less gay. I watched the Sally house and Doll Island episode and well, here we are.
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments and love! I cannot _cannot_ express how genuinely shocked and happy I am that so many people are enjoying this. I haven't replied to the comments, because I get stressed sometimes feeling like I have to reply, but each and every single one I read over and over. Seriously. Thank you everyone so much!

The response they got was… underwhelming to say the least.

“Fake?!” Richie yelled, jabbing his finger against Stan’s laptop, making a tiny smudge. “What do they mean it’s fake?!”

“I told you,” Stan said, wiping his screen, “People don’t believe in stuff unless it happens to them. Though I have to say, they are really over-estimating my editing skills.”

“Well, we’ll just have to get more and better proof,” Bev said with a shrug. She took a drag off of the joint she had rolled, blowing the smoke into Bill’s face. He laughed and wiggled his fingers through the smoke. “Make sure we interact with them more or better or, or something.”

“Well, some people do believe us,” Mike said with a smile. “There’s a good amount of positive responses too!”

“And a good amount asking when Eds and I are gonna fuck,” Richie added, smirking in Eddie’s direction.

“The answer will be never if you keep bringing it up,” Eddie snapped. “Why are they so obsessed with us.”

“I don’t know, Regina, maybe because we’re--”

“W-Where do we g-g-go next?” Bill interrupted their weird foreplay, having had enough after listening to it his whole life, “If w-we look f-f-for a ghost, i-it’s gonna s-s-seem forced, yanno?”

“I get what you mean,” Bev mumbled. “Like we’re trying to hard. Best to let it come to us. It’s more natural.”

“Yes,” Stan deadpanned. “Let the _ghosts_ just come naturally.”

“Well, Jenny Briggs always said her house was haunted,” Mike suggested. “Her parents are still in town, we could talk to them about poking around.”

“No, no,” Eddie said, moving so Richie could lounge next to him. He also took it as permission to cuddle into Eddie. “The Briggs live down the street from my mother, not fucking happening.”

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” Mike asked, not unkindly. Eddie frowned, crossing his arms. “Yeah, uh huh.”

“T-There’s the ab-b-bandoned train station!” Bill’s eyes lit up. “That w-w-would be s-so cool!”

“Yeah,” Bev cheered, sitting up straight. “And we could go to the quarry, since there’s supposed to be sounds you can hear there at night!”

“A-And the cave s-s-system!” Bill stood up, eyes red and bright, and he whooped loudly. “Yes! Yes!”

“The librarian told me that she sometimes sees and hears weird things in the library basement,” Ben offered. Eddie could have kissed him.

“I opt for the clean place first,” Eddie said. Mike nodded.

“It’s decided then!” Richie shouted, unwrapping himself from Eddie and standing up. He got up on the couch, teetering slightly. “The library is our next quest! Huzzah!”

“Huzzah!” Bill and Bev crowed, smiling wide.

“How much did you fucking smoke?” Eddie whined, shuffling over so Richie could safely get back down.

“Not enough,” he replied cheekily. “Now let’s talk logistics…”

\--

There was a loud buzzer and the door in front of Henry Bowers opened with a clang. The officer outside handed him his bag without a second look. He slung it over his shoulder, swaggering out the doors towards the gate, smirking to himself.

7 years. 7 years he had been in that fucking shithole. They put him in when he was 17 for assault, but because Mike Hanlon didn’t press formal charges, only that bitch Sonia Kaspbrak, he was able to get out early. He’d been a loner, keeping to himself. Biding his time. He could get rid of them. Get rid of them all. He clenched the strap of his bag, his knuckles turning white.

Hockstetter and Belch were waiting for him outside the gate. They hadn’t changed much. They were older, Belch had lost a little weight, and Hockstetter looked more unhinged than when he had last seen him. Good.

“Finally,” Henry drawled. “Let’s get the fuck outta this shithole.” All three climbed in and Belch started the car, heading for Derry.

“Glad to be out?” Belch asked. Henry snorted and kicked his seat.

“Duh, you dumb fuck.” He looked out the window at the shitty trees and shitty sky and shitty everything. He wasn’t looking forward to being home, just out. His father hadn’t done anything for him while he was locked up. He hadn’t visited except maybe twice. Bowers licked his lips, wondering if his father would be home when he got back.

“Guess what?” Belch said, scoffing slightly. “Those fucking Losers are in town for the summer, even that bitch Beverly.”

“No shit,” Henry said, unimpressed.

“I hear they’re looking for ghosts,” Hockstetter sneered. “Fucking dumb.”

“I wanna get fucking drunk tonight,” Henry said. “And I don’t wanna talk about the dumb ass loser pieces of shit that got me in there in the first place.”

\--

“...As the librarian said,” Richie cleared his throat, imitating the woman who ran the library, “‘I hear the voice of a woman singing as well as whistling from the stacks when no one is here.’ Well, let’s see if she’s right and there are ghosts here, or if she put a little too much Brandy in her coffee!”

“We talked about the whole disrespect thing, Rich,” Eddie warned. “We fucking talked about this.”

“And I’m disrespecting an alive person, not a dead one!”

“You’re insufferable!”

“You love me, Spaghetti, admit it!”

“I’ll admit you, you knucklehead!”

“Knucklehead? Oh my _god_ even your insults are the cutest.”

“Can we refocus maybe?” Bev asked, rolling her eyes, but smiling. “As hilarious as you two are, I’m ready to go looking!”

“Y-Yeah! Richie, w-why don’t you c-c-come with m-me this time?” Bill held out his hand, smiling. Richie took it with a sniff and turned to look back and Bev and Eddie haughtily.

“Yes, Bill dear, thank you,” he said, British accent horrible, but better than when they were kids. “These peasants couldn’t handle me if they tried.”

“Take him, Bill, please,” Eddie begged. “I may strangle him myself soon.”

\--

Henry climbed out of the car, pausing as he took in the house. It looked worse than when he had left. Paint was chipping, shutters were loose, and the screen in the door had a gash. He stomped up the steps, his boots clunking, and pushed the door open. His father was in his chair, gun on his knee, and he didn’t look up when Henry came in.

“What idiot let you out?” His father grumbled, sipping on a beer.

“Got out on good behavior,” he said, pausing behind his father’s chair. His fingers itched to wrap around the bastard’s throat and squeeze until he watched the life drain out of his eyes. Henry exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Whatever.” His father waved a hand dismissively. Henry went to his room, tossing his bag on the bed. He slammed the door behind him, clenching and unclenching his fists.

The room hadn’t changed since he had been put away. It was dustier, but it was obvious his father hadn’t stepped foot in his room. He’d probably forgotten that it even existed. Henry snarled and shoved all of the shit on his desk to the floor. He breathed harshly for a moment before kicking his bed repeatedly. He wanted out, _needed_ out of this house, but those bitch ass disgusting Losers had ruined his life. Left him stuck with his piece of shit father in a piece of shit house with _nothing_. After a while he stopped and went through his drawers. His knife was stuck in the back of his sock drawer and he yanked it out, opening the blade and running a finger across it. It needed to be sharpened. He put the blade away, shoving the knife in his pocket.

\--

“Alright, so that was fun!”

“We have _very_ different definitions of fun, Tozier,” Mike said. “Following you and Bill while you chased down whistling, only for it to be the janitor, was more along the lines of exhausting.”

“Hey! We did find out what the cause was! Vents are one of ghosts most valuable tools. You see--”

“Oh for the love of _God_,” Mike groaned. “You’ve already talked about vents for fucking 15 minutes!”

“Well hey, at least we know it’s the Brandy!”

“W-Well, w-w-we still haven’t h-heard back from E-Eddie and B-B-Bev!” Bill said. “They might h-have something!”

“Nope,” Bev called, coming up the stairs with Eddie close behind her. “We didn’t hear anything down there.”

“So what I’m hearing is it _definitely_ was the Brandy.”

\--

Vic, Belch, Hockstetter, and Bowers, back together. It might’ve been sweet, but Henry wasn’t a faggot and didn’t get mushy about that kind of dumb shit. The four of them strolled down the street. Henry knocked a passing child off his bike and sneered at him when he cried. He kicked him, relishing in the yelp. Though he contemplated doing it again, he had better things to do. The kid scurried away and Hockstetter spit after him, laughing.

“Gimme that,” Henry slurred, snatching the bottle of whiskey from Belch. He took a few gulps, relishing in the sweet burn against his throat. Hockstetter kicked a rock at dog that ran away, yipping. Henry wondered how red its blood was.

“Why are we doing this at Neibolt?” Belch asked. “That place gives me the fucking creeps.”

“No one is gonna find us there, dumbass,” Henry growled. “Plus, that place is perfect for what we’ll be doing.”

“Which is…?” Vic prompted.

“Getting fucking drunk and setting shit on fire,” Henry replied.

“I still think we could do it somewhere else, like the quarry,” Belch grumbled. Henry slapped the back of his head, hard, and knocked his cap off.

“We’re doing it where I say we’re doing it.”

\--

“After last episode’s spectacular failure, we’re back in the grit and grime ready to search this abandoned train house!” Richie thrust his hips forward, sticking out his tongue. “Yeah, mama!” Eddie looked at him with horrified disgust.

“What the _fuck_, Richard?” He squeaked out. “Beep fucking beep!”

“Oh, Eddie, you haven’t beeped me since high school! Do it again,” he purred.

“G-Guys, focus?” Bill said, drawing their attention back to the camera.

“Yeah,” Bev added, “Let’s tell these good viewers about how someone got hit on the tracks and her ghost supposedly haunts here, asking for directions.”

“S-She’s harmless, a-apparently. Not really a-a-aware she’s d-dead and j-just kind o-o-of reliving th-the mom-m-ment.” Bill moved closer to Bev, edging away from the impromptu scuffle Eddie had started. He and Richie tussled in the background while Bev and Bill talked about the ghost. It was a weak fight, even for them, and it ended with Richie giving Eddie a noogie, messing up his hair. Again.

“Ugh, come on!” Eddie said, looking in a dusty broken mirror as he straightened his hair back out.

“It’ll have cobwebs in it soon, Princess,” Richie drawled. Eddie bristled and snapped around.

“Princess?!” He shouted, incensed.

“Come on guys,” Bev cut in, looping her arm through Eddie’s. “Let’s go find ourselves a ghost!”

\--

Henry watched the fire in front of him flicker. He was well past drunk and verging into black out territory, just where he wanted to be. They were in the living room, fire burning in the metal can they found, tossing dead animals, leaves, and whatever else they could find into it. Hockstetter was crushing bugs, laughing each time he felt them squish and crunch under his hand. Vic and Belch were just watching the fire, obviously unsettled.

“Let’s go to the basement,” Henry said. “Get some more wood and dead shit.” He stood, teetering a bit, knocking over some of the beer cans he had left by his chair. He kicked them again for good measure before stumbling towards the door to the basement.

“Dude, you’re gonna break your fucking neck,” Vic said. He sounded almost sober and for a moment, Henry hated him so fiercely it almost shocked him. Everyone had changed. The whole town had become different. Bowers had no control over his friends anymore. At least, that’s how it felt. He could always count on Hockstetter being a violent freak, but he didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. They just shared mutual interests. He shook the thoughts out of his head, focusing on not falling down the stairs.

It was disgusting down there. The smell of rotting animals overwhelmed him and he had to swallow down the bile that threatened to come up. There was an old stone well, many of the rocks having crumbled out of place, and Henry stumbled over to it, peering down. He heard the sounds of the stairs behind him, as well as Belch’s huffing breaths. He stared down into the black pit, wondering how far it went. He dropped a rock, waiting for the clunk. It didn’t come for a long, long while, and when it did he could barely hear it.

“What the hell is this?” Henry turned at Belch’s question, sauntering over to where he was standing.

\--

“So,” Richie’s voice was shaky, but Eddie couldn’t focus on anything but the woman standing outside her eyes focused on something in the distance. He assumed at least. She was clearer than the children, but instead of feet she just sort of faded into nothingness. “She hasn’t noticed us yet, but we found her, we fucking _found her_!” He stage whispered. Eddie’s heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. It was a different feeling than the night at the orphanage. Somehow, it felt sadder. The women stood there, arms clasped in front of her. “Let’s get closer.”

“Richie!” Eddie gasped. “I don’t know if I can!” Richie took Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers. He held the camera in the other, resting it against his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay. You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right?” His voice was soft. Eddie flushed and gently chewed his bottom lip before nodding once. Richie didn’t let go until they were a few feet away and he needed both hands to hold the camera in a non-offensive manner. “Miss?”

“Hello?” She turned, eyes searching. She moved closer, not seeing them until she was about a yard away. “Hello, can you help me?”

“We’ll do our best,” Richie said sincerely. Eddie stared at him, finding it hard to breathe. She didn’t seem to even notice him.

“I’m trying to find the train to Whilloughby,” she said. “Do you know which it is?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, ma’am,” Richie replied, more polite than he had ever been, somehow shocking Eddie again. He wondered if maybe he was hallucinating. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” she said with a sad smile. “But thank you all the same.” She floated away, wandering over the tracks before disappearing in a mist. Eddie gasped loudly, not realizing until then he had been holding his breath.

“What the fuck!” He panted. Richie was staring, jaw dropped, at where the woman had disappeared. “Richie?” Eddie took his face in his hands, panicking. “Richie?!”

“I-I’m okay, Eds! I’m okay!” Richie hugged him, placing a silent kiss on the top of Eddie’s head.

“That was--”

“Amazing,” Richie breathed out. “Terrifying, but amazing!”

“And we got it! We got it!”

\--

“Cool,” Henry breathed. Belch had finally found something interesting. On the floor of the basement were old markings. Henry could barely guess what they were, but they looked like stuff he had seen in horror movies. Stuff that summoned demons or other weird shit like that.

“What is it?” Vic asked, running his fingers along the drawn markings on the floor.

“Looks like a summoning circle,” Hockstetter said. “Like for Satanic rituals and shit.” Henry ignored his friends, focusing on the center of the circle. The middle had been burned out, scorch marks covering the middle section. He knelt down, wiping away at the soot.

“I dare you summon Satan,” Vic said, snickering.

“That’s fucking stupid,” Hockstetter replied, sounding bored.

“Maybe it’ll work and we can ask him to get us more beer.” Vic, Henry, and Hockstetter shot Belch blank looks. “Or...not.”

“I’ll do it,” Henry said. “Jus’... gimme a sec.” He grabbed a piece of broken bottle that was near him and began carving into the wood. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just…_knew_ he needed to do it. To put the symbols back into place. The bottle cut into his hand but he barely felt it, watching the blood drip from his fingertips onto the floor. He dropped the glass, leaving it, and stood up.

“What do you say, like, ‘Hail Satan, bring me some fucking weed’?” Vic joked. Hockstetter laughed and Belch snorted.

“Something like that,” Henry muttered. “Hey, Satan!” He shouted. “Come kill my fucking dad for me maybe!”

“Whoa, Henry,” Vic said. “He’s a piece of shit, but like, whoa.”

“Whoa whatever,” Henry snarled. “Fuck him. And fuck the losers. All I want is the power to make them pay for what they did to me. All of them.”

“Hen--”

“They ruined my life!” He screamed. “I’m fucking 24 and still stuck with my dad, in this fucking town, with fucking nothing to do!” He breathed through his nose harshly, fury rising in him. “I want to be able to make them suffer the way I did. I want to watch my dad die. See the look on his face when I finally, finally get him.” He smiled, twisted, his anger building and filling the room with electric energy. Belch felt the hairs on his skin stand up and Vic felt his do the same. They looked at each other, then Bowers, who didn’t seem to notice. “I’d give anything to watch those Losers writhe in pain while I fucking spit in their faces. I’d give anything to watch them suffer.”

\--

“Guys! Guys!” Eddie followed Richie to the lobby, skidding to a halt behind him. He doubled over to catch his breath, wishing he had his stupid inhaler, even if it didn’t work.

“You see something?” Bev asked, perking up.

“We got it,” Richie replied, breathless. “We got it, we _fucking_ got it!”

“Y-You saw h-her?!”

“And,” Eddie gasped out, “We got it on camera!”

“Oh fuck yes!” Mike cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “God, wish we had all been there. You two are just the ghost charms, huh?” He smiled wide, throwing his arm over Richie’s shoulder. Richie was beaming and Eddie was taken aback by how beautiful he looked. He was so proud, so happy, and Eddie yearned to be able to keep that look on his face forever. He couldn’t help himself and he lunged forward, pulling Richie’s face to his for a heated kiss. Someone, most likely Bev, whistled. Richie looked dazed when Eddie pulled back.

“What?” He asked, eyes searching Eddie’s face. Suddenly embarrassed, Eddie turned red and turned away.

“Nothing,” he replied testily. “Let’s get out of here.”

\--

The lights were still on when Henry finally stumbled home. He cursed under his breath, not wanting to deal with his father. The door slammed behind him when he entered and was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of blood. He retched on the floor, sight fuzzy, but clear enough for him to see the streaks and pools of blood everywhere. Henry followed the path of blood to the living room, his breath quick and sharp. He had to use the wall to prop himself up.

The living room was destroyed. Bullet holes in the walls, the TV was smashed, the wallpaper ripped off in places, and all the furniture had been smashed. Henry looked around, eyes wide, when they landed on a prone body on the floor. It was his father. He had been torn apart. Henry suddenly noticed an eye floating in the water glass on the side table and he threw up again. He gasped for air and shuddered, looking wildly around the room. Guts hanging off the lamp, an arm, a leg.

And a shadow in the corner. Tall and lean and it had eyes.

“What the fuck?!” Henry screamed, pulling out his knife. “Who the fuck are you?!”

“I,” a deep voice said, “Am who you called for. Well,” a small laugh, “At least, as close as you’re going to get.” Henry pressed a hand to his head, which had started throbbing.

“What?”

“The demon you summoned.” It stepped out from the shadows, towering over Bowers. He looked up at it, stepping back. It was tall and thin, with skin the color of dead flesh. It’s limbs were long and the joints were sharp, it’s fingers almost like needles. It looked like a man. A man that had been pulled and stretched and sharpened.

“H-Huh?”

“You said you’d give anything for the death of your father,” it said calmly, it’s features suddenly shifting. It became distinctly more man-shaped, though it was still tall and sharp. Just fleshier. Henry thought it should have had horns and wings, but it was deceivingly human. “So, I did what you asked. To show you how sincerely I wanted to help you.” Henry found himself frozen as it approached, sitting on his father’s chair, which he now noticed was the only immaculate thing in the room.

“Help me…?”

“Yes,” the demon said, “Like you asked. The only thing is, what will you give me? You said anything,” the demon leaned forward, “And I intend to take your soul with me when I return to hell.”

“Fuck no,” Henry spat. The demon smiled, unaffected.

“I believe when you spilled your blood, you lost the ability to say that.” Henry clenched his fist, the cut stinging on his palm. “If you promise your soul to me, as well as those of your friends, I’ll help you.” Henry stared at the demon, wary. “Don’t you want those Losers to pay?” It stood, pacing the room. “After they laughed at you in school? Made fun of the way you dressed? Ratted you out to teachers and your father. Turned you into a joke. Turned the world against you and had you locked away, just for giving them what they deserved.” The demon stopped behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Henry found he couldn’t move away. “Don’t you want them scared? Once again at your mercy?” Henry clenched his fists and turned his head to look into the demon’s eyes.

“What do I need to do.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey.
> 
> This chapter is absolute dick, but I wanted some more Reddie interaction, and the first time I wrote the chapter it felt like things were moving too fast. So I split it up. There's gonna be more action next time.
> 
> Plus, my work had network issues this week, which is where I spend most of my time writing, so I was SOL for a while. And my cat refused to let me use my laptop.
> 
> ANYWAY. Here's some bullshit. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you for all the comments! I'm glad y'all are ready for some SPOOKY SHIT.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Eddie stood in the drugstore contemplating what snacks to get for their next trip. They were going to the quarry this time. It was probably dumb, how far he would follow Richie. But someone had to keep him out of trouble, and Eddie was good at avoiding trouble. Or at least fixing it. Well, most of the time. Well, sometimes. Well, enough of the time.

He sighed and grabbed some gummy worms, a mixed bag of tiny candy bars, a few bags of chips, and applesauce. As he headed to the front, he grabbed some granola bars too. He checked out, wondering if he should have grabbed some more healthy options. Lord knew Richie and Bill didn’t eat well, those skinny fucks, and he needed to make sure they ate at least one vegetable in their lifetimes. Besides potatoes. He left the store, wondering if he should have looked a little closer at the labels. He had skimmed them this time, instead of his usual reading and then rereading cycle, and sincerely hoped he hadn’t missed anything. Eddie was lost in his thoughts, which was why he didn’t notice the group in front of him.

“Well, well, well,” a voice drawled. _That voice_, Eddie thought, freezing. His head snapped up, horror on his face, and there was Henry Bowers, smirking at him. His look was dark and angry and Eddie really, really wished he had agreed to let Richie accompany him to the store. Not that Richie would have been any help, per say, but he at least wouldn’t have been alone. “If it isn’t little Faggot Kaspbrak.” Eddie took a step back, which was a mistake. Belch burped next to his face, as he always did, and Eddie heaved, trying not to vomit. A hand clapped onto his shoulder and Eddie flinched.

“He-Henry,” he said. “I thought-- I mean, I thought you were--”

“In jail?” Henry asked, smirking. “Yeah, I got out early on good behavior.” He leaned in, Eddie unable to step back due to Belch holding him in place. “But I think it’s time for a change of pace.”

“Didn’t you get enough of this in high school?” Eddie snapped. He worried his lower lip, so anxious he could feel himself shaking. Henry leaned back, smirk falling off his face.

“I’ll let that slide for now,” he snarled, “But you and your dickfaced friends should know that I’m back and I haven’t forgotten who sent me away in the first place.” He smiled again and it sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine. There was something unhinged and dangerous about it, more so than in high school when Bowers had tried to _drown him in a toilet_. “Oh yeah,” he said, sighing almost happily, “Have I got plans for you.”

“F-Fuck you!” Eddie spat out. He immediately regretted it. Bowers dropped the smile and sucker punched him right in the stomach. Eddie let out pained gasp, all of the air knocked out of him in one fell swoop. He dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes and he hated himself for it. For feeling as weak now as he did in high school.

“Later, cock sucker,” Henry said, kicking Eddie over as walked by. Hockstetter spit on him when he followed and Eddie lay there, feeling disgusting and small for the first time in a long, long while. He didn’t know how long he lay there, clutching his stomach. He sat up, wiping the tears and snot from his face angrily. With shaky hands he began to pick up the groceries he had gotten. He let out a quiet hiccup of a sob and stopped, holding his arm over his face as he struggled to get himself together.

“There you are!” A voice called from behind him. He stiffened, not wanting Richie to see him crying. “Thought you might have gotten caught up reading the ingredient lists again, so I thought I’d-- Oh shit!” Richie knelt in front of Eddie and grabbed his face in both hands. Eddie looked away, hating how his lip trembled. “Eds, Eddie, look at me! What happened?” He looked up then, heart pounding at the concerned look on Richie’s face. “Who--”

“Bowers,” Eddie gasped out. “He’s out and he’s _back_.” Richie sucked in a breath.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice tight and tense. “_Fuck_.” Eddie took his hand in his, squeezing it. Richie let him, pulling their hands up to kiss Eddie’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie blurted out. Richie gave him a weird look.

“Why?”

“For...I dunno. For being so lame, I guess,” he said, trailing off at the end of his sentence. Richie let out a sigh through his nose and pulled Eddie into a hug before helping him up.

“You’re lame for having a specific kleenex brand, not because you have trauma linked to a bully that literally tried to kill you.” Eddie chuckled a little and gave Richie a weak shove.

“The aloe ones are way better on your nose and I stand by using only Puffs! Plus, Kleenex is a brand. They’re tissues.”

“See!” Richie exclaimed, smiling at Eddie as he took the bags from him in one hand and wrapping his other arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “That’s lame as hell!” Eddie shoved him again, reveling in his laugh. He’d never say it, because it would go right to his head, but Richie’s ability to make Eddie stop worrying was incredible and he appreciated it more than he could say.

“Trashmouth,” he replied. Richie just grinned and kissed his cheek. They walked to Richie’s house and before they went in, Richie stopped and held Eddie back. “What?”

“Do you wanna do this tomorrow?” Eddie bit his lip. “Because I don’t want you to get too stressed. I know ghost hunting isn’t like, your favorite, and Bowers is, well, _Bowers_ and--”

“I’d like that,” Eddie said quietly. “But I also want to tell everyone what happened.”

“Yeah, Mike needs to know. Someone should probably drive him home tonight. I think he biked.” They went inside then, somber. When they got downstairs the conversation stopped and Bev stood up, worried.

“What happened?” She asked, making a small step towards them. Eddie somehow found himself surprised at how well she could read them.

“Henry Bowers is back,” Eddie said. The room collectively froze, everyone tensing up.

“What?” Mike rasped. “But--”

“Good behavior,” Eddie replied, already knowing his question. “And he’s already threatened me, or well, us.” Richie turned to him, frowning. Stan was rubbing circles into Mike’s back, Bill on the other side counting his breath for him. Bev was gripping Ben’s hand tightly and he was gripping back just the same.

“You didn’t tell me that.” Eddie flushed looking at his feet. Richie kissed his cheek. “I just worry about you, Spaghetti.”

“I may have replied ‘Fuck you’ as well?” Eddie said, feeling sheepish. Richie let out a shocked laugh.

“That’s my Spaghetti Head! But don’t provoke that asshole!” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“That’s rich, coming from you, Trashmouth. Also, don’t call me that.”

“This is cute and all,” Stan said, “But what exactly did he say.” Eddie sobered up and went to sit on the floor. Richie followed, sitting behind him and pulling him against his chest.

“He just said ‘Have I got plans for you,’” Eddie replied. “But,” he took a shaky breath, “He looked deranged. Like, worse than high school.”

“We thought maybe we could reschedule shooting until tomorrow,” Richie said. Mike nodded weakly. Stan and Bill helped him stand up.

“Y-Yeah,” he said. “I need to get home.”

“I-I’ll take y-you,” Bill said.

“I’ll come too.” Stan grabbed his computer bag and helped Bill gather up his and Mike’s stuff. Ben was still shaking in the chair, Bev holding his face and whispering to him. After Bill, Mike, and Stan had left, she stood.

“Richie, could I--”

“Please,” he begged, “Please. And this time, get the bong.”

\--

After Ben and Bev left, Richie pulled Eddie onto the couch.

“How are you doing?” Richie asked, mumbling into Eddie’s neck. He was just stoned enough to be mushy physically, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle. Eddie sighed, not stoned at all. It would have made him too anxious.

“Better.” And he was. Not great, seeing as Bowers was still _out of jail_, but better. Richie nuzzled his neck, making goosebumps rise on his arms. “Richie…”

“Shhhh,” he replied. He kissed Eddie’s neck gently, making him shiver. Richie continued, kissing up to behind his ear and licking the lobe gently. Eddie squirmed, arching his back away from Richie’s chest. He was pulled back in and Richie began to suck on his neck, hard.

“Fuck!” Eddie grit out. He flailed his arms behind him, clutching at Richie’s thighs. Richie took that for what it was and smirked against Eddie’s skin. He kissed up to Eddie’s ear again and grazed his teeth along the edge. Eddie pulled away and flipped around, stradling Richie, who looked completely pleased with himself. So he leaned down and kissed the smug look off his face. Richie tangled his fingers in the short hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck, scratching ever so slightly in the absolute best way.

Eddie tangled his fingers in Richie’s hair in response, tugging slightly, pleased with the groan it drew from Richie’s throat. They kissed for a while before Eddie sat up, breathing heavily and feeling the spit on his lips. Ew. He wiped at his face with his hand, smirking down at Richie. Who was a _sight_ to behold that left Eddie’s shorts tighter than before. His lips were red and shiny, pulled into a smile that made Eddie’s heart skip a beat. He couldn’t help it, so he reached out and cradled Richie’s cheek. He turned his head to kiss his hand gently before licking it obnoxiously.

“What the fuck!” Eddie groaned, wiping his hand off on the couch. “You’re so gross!” Richie laughed loudly, so Eddie ground his ass against Richie’s crotch in retaliation. Richie’s laugh choked off into a surprised gasp. Eddie tried to bite back his smirk.

“You little gremlin!” Richie breathed out, sitting up enough to suck on Eddie’s neck again. And he didn’t stop until Eddie was shaking in his lap, panting for air.

“Richie,” he whined, drawing out the vowels. Richie pulled away from his neck with a pop and kissed along Eddie’s jaw again, shifting his hips under Eddie and snaking a hand down to cup the erection pressing at his shorts. Eddie hissed and kissed him again.

“You, uh, ok with this?” Richie said, his words separated by tiny huffs as he tried to speak normally through the horny fog in his mind.

“Fucking obviously.” Eddie rolled his eyes, but was silently pleased that Richie had asked.

“Should we move to--”

“Shut the fuck up, Trashmouth,” Eddie snapped, “And get your dick out.”

“Yessir, right away!”

\--

Eddie stared into the mirror, turning his head side to side with horror as he looked at his neck.

“My mom is gonna fucking flip!” He screeched. Richie at least looked a little sheepish, though mostly he looked proud.

“You could tell her you got in a fight with a vaccuum?” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to 10.

“Keep joking and I will never touch your dick again.”

“Sorry, sorry! I take it all back!” He held up his hands in surrender. Eddie groaned and dragged his hands down his face.

“Do you think Bev has stuff that will cover this up?”

“Do we breathe air?” Eddie shot him a look, raising his brow and looking pointedly at Richie’s crotch before looking back at his face. Richie mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll stop by her place on the way home then I guess,” he mumbled, feeling scared of his mom seeing his neck, but also kind of loving being marked up by Richie. He flushed and left the bathroom, Richie following behind him.

“I mean, you could stay the night?” Richie tried. Eddie pursed his lips in thought.

“Fuck it,” he said. “I’m old enough to drink, I’m old enough to do whatever the fuck I want without my mother’s approval.”

“That’s my shnookums!” Richie cooed, pinching Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie shoved at him, but he kept coming back. So Eddie kneed him in the stomach and Richie stumbled back, laughing.

“You’re such a fuck,” Eddie whined. “Why do I like you?”

“For this ass,” Richie said, waggling his eyebrows and slapping his butt unattractively.

“Excuse me,” Eddie scoffed, “We all know I’m the one with the better ass in this relationship.” Richie moved, leaning to catch a glimpse of said ass.

“You got me there,” he mumbled, staring openly.

\--

Henry was pacing back and forth in his living room, the demon sitting in his father’s chair. Everything had been cleaned up and the demon had taken the form of his father. Him disappearing, or worse, being found, right after Henry was let out would get him locked up again in seconds. Especially since his father was the sheriff.

“But I want them to pay now!” He yelled, whipping around to face the demon. “That little shit talked back to me today. He’s lucky I didn’t--”

“Calm down,” the demon drawled, smirking. “We need to wait just a bit. Wouldn’t it be better for them to linger in their fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop, so revenge is that much sweeter? They’ll be expecting you to act now.”

“Why should they get any leeway?!” He kicked the ottoman and suddenly found himself pushed up against the wall, clawed fingers closing around his neck. He gasped for air, staring at the demon with wide, scared eyes.

“Because,” the demon hissed, “I said so. How can I scare them, make them feel small, if I don’t know exactly how they think? Do you want their suffering to be quick?” Henry shook his head, hands clutching at his father’s, no, the demon’s wrist. It dropped him and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. “Keep them on their toes, but do not act until I say.” It grinned, sharp teeth showing. The smile was tight and angry; it made Henry’s stomach churn. “Understand?” Henry nodded again, shaking.

\--

The next day, the gang met up at Bill’s instead of Richie’s, hanging outside in his front yard. Mike looked like he had barely slept, but still better than the day before. When Eddie and Richie had arrived, they were greeted with whoops and hollers that made Eddie blush and Richie beam in pride.

“Oh my god,” Bev said, standing up from her spot on Ben’s lap, “Eddie you look like you’ve been mauled!”

“I’m well aware,” he replied, feeling embarrassed.

“Want any help covering it up tonight when we go to the Quarry?” He shook his head. “You sure?”

“It’ll just come off if I get water on me.”

“Yeah,” Richie said, slinging an arm over Eddie’s shoulders. “Plus, I figure we can put the fans out of their misery from watching our sexual tension.” Eddie rolled his eyes. Bev snorted and went back to sitting in Ben’s lap. He rested his chin on her shoulder, content.

“S-So, we’re g-g-gonna do this th-then?” Bill looked around the group. Stan just watched, his bird book open in his lap. Mike scratched the back of his head.

“I’m ready,” he said. He licked his lips before speaking again. “I’m not sure he’ll try anything just yet, not right after getting out.”

“He _is_ a dumbass fuckhead though,” Richie said. Eddie pinched his arm and he yelped. “But maybe not that dumb?”

“Whatever happens,” Bev said, “We’ll be ready.” The group nodded in agreement and Eddie saw some of the tension leak out of Mike’s shoulders.

“Thanks you guys,” he said quietly, a small smile on his face.

They piled into Bill’s car, Ben and Stan waving them goodbye, and made their way to the quarry. Eddie thought about the summers they used to spend there, swimming and sunbathing. The way Richie laughed when he dunked Eddie underwater. The way he spluttered when Eddie popped up and did the same thing back. He smiled to himself, resting his head on Richie’s shoulder. Richie kissed the top of his head and it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

The quarry was the same as it always was and they set up camp on the rocky shore. Mike and Bill struggled with getting the tripod set up, the gravel making it difficult to get a steady and straight shot. Eddie looked out over the water, wrinkling his nose at how dirty it still was. Bev skipped some rocks while they waited, Richie cheering her on. The sun was still up, though soon it would be setting, and Eddie tilted his head back, closing his eyes. It was beautiful and would be romantic if Richie wasn’t Richie and Bill and Mike weren’t swearing in the background.

“J-Just put it o-o-over h-here!”

“It’ll still fucking tilt!”

“O-Oh my g-g-g-god!”

“Don’t just set it on the rocks,” Bev called. “Dig it in! Use them as support for the legs!” She didn’t even turn around, focused on getting more than 3 skips. Mike and Bill shot her a sour look, but did as she said anyway. It worked.

“Okay guys,” Mike huffed, hands on his hips. “Let’s go.” The other four got into position, the lake behind them for the shot. Mike counted down on his fingers and gave them a thumbs up for go.

“Welcome back to Debunking Derry!” RIchie cheered, his voice echoing through the quarry. “Tonight we are in,” he paused for dramatic effect, “The Quarry.” Eddie rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “Honestly, I’m not sure we’ll hear anything this evening, most definitely we won’t see anything, but we’re here nonetheless!”

“T-The activity i-in the quarry h-h-has been limited t-to hearing a-a-a woman s-singing. N-No full app-apparations have b-b-been seen.”

“Hopefully,” Bev said, bouncing on her toes, “We’ll break that streak and get a glimpse of something tonight.”

“Hopefully,” Eddie rebutted, “We’ll hear nothing and I can go home early.” Richie pulled him in for a noogie and Eddie shoved at him. “Get off you big lug!”

“You only wanna end soon so we can go back to mine, admit it!” Richie teased. Eddie turned red and stomped on his foot, making Richie hiss. “Damn, Spaghetti.”

“I already warned you if you kept talking shit I would never touch your dick again!” Eddie snapped his mouth shut and went bright red. Mike was holding back a laugh, Bill looked pale but amused, and Bev was snickering. “I hate all of you,” Eddie whined, covering his face. “I hate all of you so much.”

“You just need to cool off, Eds,” Richie said. “Lemme help. You got that change of clothes you always bring?”

“Of course, and before you say it’s lame you never know when you’ll spill something! I’ll have you know--” He was cut off by Richie lifting him up. “Richie, what the fuck! Put me down!” Moments before it happened, Eddie realized what he was doing. “No no no no no NO PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN! DO YOU KNOW HOW DIRTY THAT FUCKING WA--!” Richie tossed him into the water, not very far, but far enough. He landed on his ass, water splashing up around him. Richie was laughing, bent over at the waist, and Eddie hated that he thought he looked handsome. Bev was rolling her eyes, but smiling. Mike was shaking his head, hand over his eyes in, quite frankly, a very Stan move, and Bill looked like he might be sad _he_ wasn’t the one tossed in.

“Y-Your fucking face!” Richie wheezed. Eddie shot up and tackled him, relishing in the squeal he made when he went down. Perched on top of his boyfriend, surrounded by his friends, Eddie felt warm, despite the cooling air.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of gore in this one!
> 
> Like I said, I split one chapter, so a lot of this was already done. So two chapters, one day. Make up for the almost solid week of inactivity lol.
> 
> Well, hope y'all enjoy! I feel like the shit with Sonia is incredibly cliche, but it's what Eddie's scared of, so.
> 
> This is a bit short, but expanding it more felt weird.
> 
> Let's get creepy~~
> 
> Unbeta'd

They spent the evening waiting for sounds, something, anything, but there was nothing. No lights, no singing, no visions. Nothing but dirty water and crumbling rock. Eddie jumped at every pebble that shook itself loose. He was incredibly on edge. Nothing was happening, but he couldn’t get past the sensation of being watched. Like someone or something was out there, waiting for them. He looked around, wondering if anyone else felt it too.

Bev looked bored, having maxed her skipping at 8 bounces. She sat on a larger rock, tracing patterns in the dirt with a stick. Bill was laid out next to her, looking up at the sky, and most likely close to falling asleep, if not there already. Richie was trying to catch the moths that were attracted to the lights they had set up. The only one who looked remotely like they felt the way Eddie did was Mike. He was leaning against a tree, eyes darting around occasionally. Eddie made his way over to him, leaning on the opposite side.

“Hey,” Eddie said. Mike nodded in response, still looking out at the water. “This, uh, might sound weird, but I keep feeling like there’s someone watching us.” Mike turned to look at him then. “It’s not like there’s really anything happening,” he grumbled, rubbing his arm self consciously, “But…”

“I know what you mean,” Mike replied quietly. Eddie looked at him from the corner of his eye and noticed he was scanning the area again. “I don’t know if it’s just the fact that Bowers is back and I’m on high alert, or if there’s something out there waiting for us to let our guard down.” Eddie nodded.

“Yeah,” he sighed. They stood in companionable silence, just watching the others and the lake, when the hairs on Eddie’s arms stood up. He shivered, eyes darting around. Mike tensed up next to him, pushing away from the tree. The air had shifted, something electric filling the space. Bev looked up from her dirt doodles and nudged Bill, who had been asleep, just like Eddie thought. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“H-Hear something?” He asked, yawning. Bev shook her head.

“No, I just,” she paused, looking like she was fighting to find the words, “I just feel like we need to leave.”

“Scared?” Richie smiled teasingly at her, but it faltered when she didn’t respond. She was looking out over the water, frowning.

“It’s just something in my gut,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. He walked over to her, helping both her and Bill up. “I’ve been feeling like something was watching us. Eddie too.” Bill and Mike began to pack up while Bev looked out at the water, unable to tear her eyes away. Richie went over to Eddie, hands in his pockets. Eddie had his arms wrapped around himself, nervous and uncomfortable in a way he hadn’t been since the orphanage.

“You ok, Eds?” Richie asked. Eddie didn’t respond. “Not even gonna tell me not to call you that?”

“There’s something out there,” Eddie replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Richie raised an eyebrow. “I can’t explain it,” he said, shaking his head, “But something’s watching us.”

“Hey, Rich,” Mike called. “Can we get some help with the trunk?” Richie looked torn for a moment, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek before jogging over to the car to help. Eddie walked over to Bev, who had her eyes closed and fingers at her temples.

“You ok?” She shook her head.

“I wanna go home.” Eddie nodded, looking out over the water again. Still nothing.

“Alright!” Mike called. “Let’s get outta here!” Eddie took Bev’s hand, giving it a squeeze. She gripped back and didn’t let go until they had to climb into the car. Once everyone was buckled up, Bill pulled out, heading back up the giant gravel slope. Eddie spared one last look back at the lake and saw a shadowy figure under the tree. He blinked, hoping he imagined it. But it was still there, eyes red and glinting. He nudged Richie.

“R-Richie,” he hissed. “Rich!”

“What?” Eddie looked at him and then made a pointed glance back behind him. They turned together, but there was nothing there. Eddie swallowed. “What?”

“I thought I saw something,” he whispered. He then shook his head. “I must have imagined it.”

“It’s okay, Spaghetti,” Richie cooed. “It’s been a bit of a night.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied half heartedly. “Yeah.”

\--

Because Eddie had left some of his stuff at Richie’s, they had Bill drop them both off there instead of taking Eddie home. He knew he was in deep shit. He hadn’t called his mom at all since leaving for the store and knew she was probably going to try and lock him away for the weekend. It was ridiculous. She acted like he was still 10 years old and not about to graduate from college. He sighed and grabbed his extra bag from Richie’s basement.

“Want me to walk you home?” Richie asked. “I know you’re a bit on edge.”

“As nice as that would be, if I show up after two days of silence with you, she’ll flip even more than she’s going to,” Eddie replied. “I’ll call you when I get home though.” He licked his lips, looking away from Richie. “But if you, uh, wanted to sneak in later, I mean, I wouldn’t mind too much, I guess,” he rambled. Richie smiled.

“I just might,” he replied. Eddie gave him a kiss goodbye, not wanting to leave, but knowing he needed to. He made his way out of the gate, waving one last time before heading home. He walked quickly, making sure to stay on the well lit streets. He pulled his phone out, wondering if he should just call Richie while he walked, ignoring the sound of a car approaching behind him. He paused, chewing his lip lightly as he tried to decide.

“EDWARD KASPBRAK!” Eddie froze, fear rippling through him. What was she doing out this late? She was always in bed by 10 and it was well past 1 in the morning. He turned slowly and made eye contact with his mom as she pulled to a stop next to him, eyes wild with fury. She got out of the car and stomped up to him, grabbing his arm. “Where have you been?! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! That horrible boy is back and you are walking _alone_?! At this time of night?! Do you want to get hurt again?!”

“What? Mom, no!” He realized she must have meant Bowers. “He doesn’t even come over this way very often! I was gon--”

“I went to the police but that sheriff wouldn’t put out a missing persons report! Said you’d show up soon enough. He’s lucky I didn’t have my pepper spray with me!”

“Mom, you can’t just pepper spray the sheriff,” Eddie said weakly. “And I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I was hanging out with Richie and everyone and I was having so much fun I didn’t--”

“Eddie-bear.” Her voice made him stop and shiver. “What are those marks on your neck.” It wasn’t a question. Eddie had almost forgotten, slapping a hand over his neck, though he knew it wouldn’t cover the worst of it.

“Uhm,” he stuttered, blanching a bit. “Th-They’re-- I--”

“Are those hickies.” Her eyes were dark and Eddie suddenly felt very, very afraid of his mother.

“No?” He replied weakly. She manhandled him into the car. She said nothing, which freaked him out even more. Yelling he could deal with. Yelling he understood. Silence from his mother meant much, much worse than yelling. They drove in tense, dangerous silence for a while. “Mom,” he began.

“It was that Tozier boy, wasn’t it.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. He swallowed.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes,” he said again, louder this time. “It was.”

“You’re never seeing him again.”

“Mom!” Eddie flushed with rage. He was so tired of being pushed around. “I’m 21 years old. I can see whoever I want. I’m an adult.”

“You’re still my son and you’re still living under my roof. If you want to go back to college, you will stop seeing that boy and letting him,” she shuddered, “Taint you in this way.”

“He’s not tainting me!” Eddie yelled. “I’m gay, mom! You have to accept that!” This wasn’t a conversation he was ready or wanting to have. Part of him wished she’d go back to worrying over him for being gone for 2 days. That would be better than whatever this argument would produce. He jerked forward as she came to an abrupt stop in their driveway. She turned to him, her face twisted into something that made Eddie recoil.

“You,” she hissed, “Are not gay. You are misguided and being brainwashed by that _freak_\--”

“Don’t call him that!” Eddie snapped. He didn’t expect the slap. His head jerked to the side with the force of it and he froze in shock.

“Go to your room,” his mother said, her voice dangerous and quiet. Eddie scrambled out of the car, hoping to make a get away, but his mother was suddenly there, gripping his arm so tightly he winced.

“Mom--!”

“You’re not coming out until you realize the wrongness of your ways.” He struggled against her, surprised at how tight her grip was. When did she get this strong? “In fact, I think college has been too much for you. You should probably just stop and come home.”

“What?!” Eddie gasped out. “Are you kidding me?!” The idea was fucking ridiculous. He knew his mom was obsessive and smothering, but this was almost too much, even for her.

“I most certainly am not,” she said, yanking the door open and marching him up the stairs. Eddie once again tried to pull his arm out of her grasp, it really shouldn’t be so _hard_, but her hand was like a vice on his arm. She shoved him into his room and stood in the doorway. There was something about her eyes…

“Mom?” Eddie whispered, confused.

“You’ll stay here forever, Eddie,” she said. But it wasn’t her voice. It was deeper and darker and Eddie paled, frightened. “You’ll stay here forever. My baby boy. My Eddie-Bear.” She smiled, her teeth sharp and glinting. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and he blinked. And just like that she was his mother again. The hint of something darker, more dangerous, was gone, leaving only his mother behind. His crazy, delusional mother. Eddie took a step forward and it kicked his mom back into gear. She slammed the door and he heard the lock turn. He stood there, staring at where she had been.

“What…?” He breathed out. He felt the oncoming panic attack bubble in his chest, his lungs tightening and his head beginning to pound. With a rasp he dug into his pocket, fumbling with his phone as tears welled in his eyes. He swallowed and blinked them away as the phone rang.

“There he is!” Richie said. “My snookums!”

“Please come get me,” Eddie whispered into the phone, his voice shaking.

“Eddie?” Richie’s voice lost it’s usual joking lilt. “Eddie what--”

“Please,” he croaked out. “Please come--”

“I’ll be right there.” Richie hung up and Eddie sat on the floor by his bed, holding his knees to his chest.

What the _actual fuck_ was going on.

\--

There was a gentle rap on his window about 10 minutes later. By then he had done his breathing exercises and packed a bag of some essentials. At least what he had in his room. He opened the window as quietly as he could, glad his mother hadn’t thought to lock it. Richie leaned in, but Eddie shook his head.

“I don’t want to be here for another fucking second.” Richie nodded and took Eddie’s bag from him, helping him through the window. They climbed down silently, Eddie falling to his knees instead of his feet when they hit the ground. Richie helped him up and they made their way back to his house.

“What happened?” He took Eddie’s hand as he spoke. Eddie hated the way his mother’s voice echoed in his head as he did. He pushed it away, focusing on the comfort he felt from being with Richie.

“She saw me walking,” he began quietly, “And freaked out because Bowers is back and I was alone and gone for two days. I mean she even went to the police, for fuck’s sake.” Richie shot him a look and Eddie frowned. “Then she saw the hickies.” Richie blushed and looked away. “She freaked out, I admitted it was you, she slapped me--”

“She what?!” Richie seethed. Eddie shrugged, still processing.

“Slapped me. Because I refused to listen to her. She won’t accept me being gay, and really won’t accept that I chose you, and then she locked me in my room and told me I would never leave.” His breath got shorter and more hurried as he spoke, anxiety and fear rising in him again. “And she wasn’t her for a moment, I swear to god, it was like someone else was inside her.” Richie’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’m sorry?”

“Her voice was deep and not hers and--” He cut himself off, not sure where he was going. He thought back to the shadow he had seen earlier that evening and shuddered. It’s eyes had glinted with the same promise of violence his mother’s had when she told him she’d keep him forever. “I’m scared, Richie,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna go back. She won’t let me go back to school, she won’t let me see my friends, I’m fucking freaking out!” Richie stopped, stepping in front of Eddie and cupping his cheeks.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said. “We’re gonna go back to my place, we’re gonna talk to my mom--” Eddie let out a sound of protest, but Richie ignored him, “--you’re going to stay with me until your mom gets her shit together, okay?”

Eddie didn’t feel hopeful.

\--

Mike was sitting on his porch, head in hands, reveling in the cool night air. Though he wanted to go to sleep, he was still on edge from before. Eddie had been whispering to Richie, but he had overheard him mention seeing something. He rubbed his arms, looking down at his shoes. What had it been? Had it even been there? Before he would’ve said no, but now, after all they’d seen in the past month and a half, he wasn’t so sure. The wind picked up and he sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He leaned back, resting his head against the side of the house.

Living in Derry, or even outside of Derry, had never been pleasant. Small towns in the North were essentially the South, and Derry was no different. He didn’t like being alone there. The Losers had made him feel safer, like there were people he could trust to have his back. They still did, but Bowers coming back had shaken him. Bowers was a loose canon and openly, proudly racist, unlike the rest, who hid their sneers and slurs for when they thought his back was turned. Who hid their racism behind backhanded compliments and microaggressions. He groaned and ran his hands over his face again, wishing that Bowers was still locked away where he should be. Suddenly, he heard scratching at the lattice under the porch. He stood slowly and looked over the railing, his breath getting stuck in his throat when he saw what was making the noise.

Mr. Chips was scratching at the lattice, like he always had, digging for whatever he could find. Except Mr. Chips was dead. Had been for years. Mike could hear himself breathing raggedly as he stumbled away from the railing. _No way_, he thought. Gathering his courage he looked over the side again. Mr. Chips was looking at him now. His eyes were black and he was foaming at the mouth, teeth bared in what looked like a smile. Mike could hear his heart pounding in his ears, but found he couldn’t look away. Mr. Chips barked once, twice, and then slowly began decomposing in front of his eyes. Bile threatened to come up and Mike stumbled back, falling onto the hard and unforgiving wood. Mr. Chips stood on hind legs, claws scratching as he tried to climb the side of the porch.

He was dripping with skin and muscle, blood and pus, bones beginning to protrude. Mike scuttled back, crab walking away, and unable to rip his eyes away from his former dog. There was a low whine as Mr. Chips began shoving his head through the railing, the posts pulling at the loose skin on his face. He pushed and pushed until Mike could hear the tearing and he finally vomited. He turned to the side, retching onto the porch steps. He weakly stood, glancing back one more time.

He was gone. The blood and pus that had been all over that side of the porch was gone. Like it had never been there. Mike panted, eyes still watery from throwing up, and stood there, staring at where his rotting dog had been moments ago. He rubbed at his eyes. But no, the dog was gone and had apparently never even been there. Mike trembled, clutching at the wall next to him for support. Finally, he went inside and collapsed on the couch, silently crying himself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep thinking I'm gonna be ending this soon, but I keep having to stretch stuff out. Well. I don't _have_ to. But I keep making things move too quickly, at least in my mind. I had written like, 10 or more pages for this chapter, and wasn't anywhere close to done, so the caves are split. Also cuz like, more demon exposition needs to happen and blah blah blah.
> 
> Thank you so FUCKING MUCH for all the wonderful comments. I reread them over and over and over and over. Seriously. Thank you to everyone so fricking much. I didn't think ppl were gonna like this as much as y'all seem to.
> 
> I feel like my writing is slowly declining as the story goes, but I'm whipping myself into shape, no worries.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Eddie woke up in a cold sweat. He had dreamed of his mother growing and suffocating him by hugging him too tightly over and over. He dreamed that she locked him up, chained him to his bed, and forced him to act like a child. Like, fucking diapers and bottle feeding and… Eddie shuddered and, on reflex, Richie’s arm tightened around him. They had fallen asleep in Richie’s bed, holding each other. Eddie looked at him, at the way his lashes looked way longer without his glasses, the light spattering of freckles on his cheeks. He inhaled deeply, filling his senses with Richie as he pushed away thoughts of his mother. Richie snuffled in his sleep and let out a long snore, a bit of drool dripping out of the corner of his mouth. Eddie wrinkled his nose, but didn’t make any moves to leave. Eventually, he slowly moved, adjusting Richie’s arm so he could escape without waking him, and got up, stretching. He grabbed his phone and the extra toothbrush he kept with him, heading to the bathroom.

Looking at himself in the mirror was a mistake. He had bags under his eyes, his neck was still vaguely purple, though it was mostly fading into a yellow green now, and his hair was greasy. Sometimes he wondered how Richie could even stand to touch him…

Eddie gripped the edge of the sink and shook his head. No. That was a dangerous road to go down. Richie didn’t, wouldn’t, care. He never had. Eddie brushed his teeth aggressively before borrowing some of the face wash from the counter. As he was drying his face, he heard a creak in the hallway. He stiffened, forgetting where he was for a split second, before relaxing. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Richie, honey?” Eddie opened the door, smiling at a less shocked than she should be Maggie Tozier. “Oh! Eddie!”

“Hello, Mrs. Tozier.”

“I haven’t put coffee on yet, but if you would be so kind as to do the honors, I’ll make breakfast when I get down,” she said, letting Eddie exit the bathroom before taking his place. He nodded and turned his back on the closing door, quietly heading downstairs. He began making coffee, adding a few extra spoons of grounds because, fuck, did he need it. He leaned on the counter, looking out their back door.

“Hello, Edward,” Went greeted, making Eddie jump. The man chuckled, grabbing a mug. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Eddie smiled weakly at him. “How have you been?”

“Alright. Just enjoying the summer before going back to school,” he replied. Went nodded, immediately grabbing the pot once the machine beeped.

“You’re going for…?”

“Nursing. I think at least. I mean, it’d be weird to change now.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great nurse.” Eddie flushed, smiling slightly. His mom hadn’t been happy with his decision, telling him he was too frail to work in a hospital. That only girls were nurses. The support was a nice change. “How are you and Richie?” Eddie groaned, ignoring the sly smile on Went’s face. “That bad huh?” Eddie turned red and began making his own cup of coffee. Went laughed. “As long as he’s treating you right. You’re like a second son to us, I hope you know.” Eddie looked at him, slightly shocked. Went nodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder before heading to the dining room. Eddie remained in the kitchen, staring into his coffee.

By the time Richie got up, Eddie was helping Maggie make omelets. Richie stumbled down the stairs, all nervous energy, relaxing when he saw Eddie. Then tensing up again because _it was too cute_. Eddie and his mom in aprons, making breakfast.

“I thought you left,” he mumbled. Eddie turned and scoffed.

“After last night? I’m never going home again.” Maggie frowned.

“What happened last night?” Eddie froze, biting his lip. Maggie just looked more concerned. “Whatever happened, you know you can tell me, right?” Eddie nodded. “Take your time, though. Don’t do anything you aren’t ready for.” After the night before and the dreams he had, it was almost too much. To much open love and support. Recognizing him as his own person. The tears started to fall before Eddie could stop them. Maggie took the spatula and gently pushed him toward the dining room. Richie followed, sitting next to Eddie and taking his hand. They sat there, waiting, until Maggie came out with plates for them. After grabbing her food, she sat down at the table with them.

“Alright,” she said. “Do you feel ready to talk about it?” Eddie nodded and began the story.

\--

Mike had convinced himself that he hadn’t seen anything last night, despite how real it felt. He hadn’t been sleeping well, had been particularly jumpy, and honestly, it just wasn’t possible. Right? He toyed with the idea of telling his friends, but it seemed silly. Nothing like that had ever happened before, so he doubted it would again. Doubted that there was anything behind it other than his overactive imagination and sleep deprivation.

Now he was sitting in Bill’s car, waiting for Stan to come out of his house. Bill tapped on the wheel along to the music on the radio, in his own world. Mike glanced at him before looking out the window again.

“Stan’s always so punctual,” he said. “Wonder what’s keeping him?”

“H-His mom i-i-is pr-probably fussing over h-h-him,” Bill replied. Mike shrugged.

“I guess.” Stan finally came out, rolling his eyes and yelling something back into the house. His mother followed him out, grabbing his face and kissing his cheek aggressively. Mike chuckled. Stan strode over to the car and hopped in as quickly as he could.

“Drive before she tries to feed you,” Stan ordered.

“Yessir!” Bill said, laughing as he pulled out of the driveway. They rode in silence for a few blocks before Mike turned back to face his friends.

“I wonder what’s up,” he said. “Richie never leaves emoticons out of his texts, but he did today.”

“Who knows,” Stan replied, rolling his eyes.

“I-It is w-weird,” Bill agreed, though slightly reluctantly. “B-But it’s R-R-Richie.” Mike shrugged. That was true. Richie wasn’t necessarily the most consistent of friends. He changed things up a lot, though he did spam the chat with dumb emoticons everyday. Maybe it was just the night before lingering in the back of his mind, but something was wrong. He could feel it.

When they got to Richie’s, Bev and Ben were already there. Eddie was pressed against Richie’s side on the couch, and Mike was suddenly overwhelmed by how happy he was for them. That they finally fucking talked to each other. He wasn’t sure he could have stood them missing out on each other because they were too dumb to just say “Hey, I like you.” Eddie looked up and gave them a small wave. He looked like shit.

“D-Dude,” Bill said, directing his words to Eddie, “You l-l-look like sh-shit.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Eddie said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “I hadn’t noticed.” Bill flushed with embarrassment as he sat down. Eddie dropped his guarded look and sighed, leaning his head against the couch. “Sorry, Bill, I’m just…” He bit his lip. “I’m not doing so great right now.”

“What’s up?” Bev asked. Eddie didn’t say anything, picking at a loose string on his sock.

“Want me to tell them?” Richie asked, oddly subdued. Eddie shook his head, but still didn’t say anything. Mike’s heart beat faster, nervous energy filling him.

“My mom--” He began, before cutting himself off. He inhaled deeply and tried again. “My mom found out about me and Richie,” Bev emitted a small gasp, “And then tried to lock me in my room and never let me out.” He said it so casually. Mike gaped.

“What?” Stan’s voice was cold. “She _what_?”

“What the fuck?” Ben breathed out, eyes wide.

“It’s not like this is particularly shocking,” Eddie grumbled. “She’s my mom. We all know how she is.”

“But she seriously tried to lock you in?” Mike asked, shocked and concerned. Eddie shrugged and Mike noted how Richie’s hand clenched the armrest. He was obviously holding back his anger at Eddie’s mother, in a spectacular show of control. His other hand, the one holding Eddie’s, tightened as well.

“Yeah. She,” he laughed humorlessly, “She actually fucking locked me in after telling me she’d never let me go and--” He hesitated then, shooting a look to Richie, who sighed. They had a silent conversation, Richie obviously pressing Eddie to continue, which Mike wasn’t sure was the best idea.

“If you don’t want to tell us everything, you don’t have to,” Mike said gently. Eddie shook his head.

“Maybe soon,” he murmured. Mike could tell Richie wasn’t super pleased, but he once again kept his mouth shut. Mike wondered what was wrong with him. It was not like Richie to keep his opinion to himself. They were quiet for a while, just taking it all in. It was honestly almost shocking. Eddie had gone a majority of his life hiding who he was from his mother. It kept her leash longer and Eddie did anything he could to keep it that way. The fact that he told meant she must have pushed some buttons.

“What are you gonna do?” Bev leaned forward, grabbing Eddie’s knee. He blushed. 

“I’m gonna stay here, in the Tozier’s basement, and see if I can talk to my mom. Well, get ready to talk to my mom. See if I can convince her that this is okay. That it’s what I want and so she should want it for me too.”

“And if not?” Stan, ever the realist. Mike honestly believed it was because Stan worried so intensely about things. He tended to do that. Eddie shrugged.

“We’ll see when we get there.” Stan frowned, opening his mouth to say more. Eddie held up his hand. “I honestly can’t think about anything except the fact the she won’t let me go back to college if I go home right now.” Mike sucked in a breath. “So I’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to fucking get the balls to talk to her.” Richie snorted. Stan looked nervous, but he sighed.

“Sorry,” he said, looking down. Eddie smiled softly.

“Thanks for worrying,” he replied. They were quiet again, trying to wrap their heads around the situation. Eventually, Richie shifted on the couch.

“If someone doesn’t say something soon, I’m gonna start singing.” Everyone started talking over each other, sending them into a fit of laughter that broke the tension. The energy in the room shifted and Richie pretended to be offended. “I have the voice of an angel!” He protested. Eddie snorted.

“They use your singing voice as a toture device to get criminals to confess,” he shot back.

“Good one, babe!” Richie smiled wide as Eddie blushed and shoved him, a matching grin on his face. They all relaxed, discussing their latest shoot.

“You guys never did a closing shot, saying goodbye and shit, so we’ll have to get one of you to record something,” Stan said. “But the rest of the video should be fine.” He snorted. “Though it looks like it’ll mostly be Richie and Eddie’s weird foreplay.” Eddie let out a muffled sound of outrage. Stan shot him a blank look.

“S-So,” Bill said. “I-If you d-d-don’t have the b-b-balls to t-talk to yo-your mom,” he smirked at Eddie, “Do y-you have th-the balls to g-g-go into the c-caves?” Eddie raised his brows, blank for a moment, before letting out an involuntary snort.

“You know what,” he said in disbelief, “I think that I do. Seems like a piece of cake in comparison to talking to my mother.”

\--

Ben was joining them this time. The caverns were hard to navigate and Ben was the only one, besides Mike, who understood where was safest to go. Since they usually split into groups, Richie and Eddie needed someone to guide them. Richie tried to protest, but was quickly shut down by everyone. It was the one place that, just as a place, regardless of possible ghosts, posed real danger. People had gotten lost many times before, some never being found.

“Most people think they got eaten by coyotes or bears, but seeing as bears are usually pretty shy, my bet is on ki-oats,” Richie said, using his shitty Steve Irwin impression when talking about the animals. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Way back when, like when they used oil lamps still, people would come down here to look for minerals, hoping that they would find secrets and riches.” Bev gestured sarcastically at the entrance. “Why they thought that is honestly the real mystery here, but I can’t say our ancestors were known for their smarts.”

“M-Many p-people died in h-h-here looking around,” Bill added. “T-They did-didn’t h-have proper lighting a-a-and often f-fell to their d-d-deaths.”

“And they end up trapped here, wandering for the exit they’ll never find.” Eddie crossed his arms. “Mostly because they never found it when they were alive.”

“Now!” Richie threw his arms up. “It is time to get into our cave exploring gear!”

“And by that he means grab our flashlights,” Eddie dead panned. They all got into their gear, Eddie using a headlamp so he could use both hands for any first aid things they might need. And, knowing Richie and Bill, there would definitely be a need for it. They all went in, getting to the main cave first.

“This is where kids come to smoke and drink,” Richie explained. “It’s a straight shot from the entrance, so it’s pretty much impossible to forget how to get out of here. When it’s day time, you can even see some light peeking in.”

“What we’re gonna do,” Bev said, “Is split off.” She gestured to one side. “Bill, Mike, and I are gonna go this way,” she gestured to the other, “And Ben, Eddie, and Richie are gonna go the other.”

“W-We won’t g-g-get to see i-it all,” Bill warned, “‘C-C-Cause it’s r-really dangerous d-d-d-down here. B-But, w-w-e’ll make sure yo-you see all y-y-you can.” And with that, they were off. Eddie took the camera, nervously holding it as steady as he could, so Richie and Ben could discuss just how they wanted to explore. Eddie tuned them out a bit. It had been a few days since he ran off. His mother had called the Tozier household pretty much nonstop, but Maggie hadn’t allowed her to speak with him. Somehow, the cops had yet to be involved. Honestly, he assumed it was because Bowers’ dad didn’t actually give a shit, and still held his son being locked up against his mother. Also the fact that she would call and report him missing after he was gone for a few hours, and had done so since he was in elementary school. And for once, he was grateful that Bowers’ dad was a piece of shit. He shook off the thoughts, zoning back in as Richie turned to him.

“Ready Spaghetti?” He grinned.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie replied on instinct. He followed them, finally turning the camera on and recording, as Ben began explaining the history of the tunnels and cave system. Eddie tuned him out, again, having heard it all before. Instead, he looked at the walls. Kids had carved their names into the rock, other stupid things too. There were a few pentagrams as well, and they made him shiver involuntarily.

“Cold, Eds?” Richie called from in front of him. Eddie rolled his eyes. “Need me to warm you up, lover?” His voice was sing-song and light. Eddie blushed.

“Fuck you,” he replied without any heat. “Just looking at the dumb shit on the walls.” As they bickered, they walked into another large room, and these walls were _covered_ in writing. Eddie got some shots, curious. These weren’t names. There were some, but not in the horrid scratching left by a useless pocket knife. These looked deliberate and purposeful. “What language is this?” Ben came up next to him.

“Latin, I think?” He moved closer. “Yeah, Latin.” He ran his fingers over the markings, brow furrowing. “They… They almost look like ritual stuff.”

“Like what?” Eddie felt a sudden chill, shivering slightly.

“I did some research on Satanic rituals,” Ben began, “‘Cause that one guy, the one who killed those orphans, Norman Brewers, was into some really, _really_ dark shit.” He pulled away from the wall. “Like, trying to summon demons and stuff. It’s why he killed the kids, I think. Wanted blood of the innocent or something. I mean, he was also apparently a bigotted piece of shit, but he really believed in this stuff.” Eddie felt goosebumps rise on his arms. He remembered the look in his mother’s eyes and her sharp teeth and thought _Maybe I do too_.

“Well, after everything we’ve seen, maybe it’s not too far off,” he replied, going for lighthearted but sounding terrified. He turned then, wondering when Richie was going to say some dumb shit, but there was no one behind them. His heart nearly stopped. “Richie?” Ben turned around now. There was no response. “Richie?!” His voice was rising in pitch, just like it always did, and he felt fear start to worm it’s way into the pit of his stomach. “Richie, if you’re joking around right now, I will fucking kill you myself, do you hear me?!” Still nothing. Eddie began to hyperventilate, his breath coming in short bursts. Ben grabbed his shoulder.

“Eddie, Eddie! He probably just went a bit ahead, we’ll find him.” Eddie looked at him and found that Ben didn’t seem to be believing his own words. Eddie shook his head. Fuck it.

“It’s dangerous down here and we’re finding him. Now.” He shoved the camera into Ben’s hands, heading for the tunnel they had yet to go down when he saw them. Marks in the dirt on the ground. Like someone had been pulled away. He froze, headlamp illuminating the tracks in the dirt. “B-Ben.” His voice was barely a whisper. “BEN!”

“Eddie, calm do--” He stopped when he saw where Eddie was pointing. “What the fuck?” His voice was small and confused. Eddie started off down the tunnel, ignoring Ben’s shout after him. He heard Ben follow, cursing under his breath, but he couldn’t think past _RichieRichieRichie_.

\--

Mike wasn’t super thrilled to be in the tunnels, but they were pretty cool. He knew they were getting some good shots, whether or not they found anything, and he tried to focus on that. Not on his dog. Not on Eddie’s mother or the way Eddie shied away from talking about that night. Mike wasn’t sure what it was, but something happened that freaked him out even past his mother’s deranged attitude. Something more than his mother trying to lock him up. But then again, Eddie was always pretty much on edge about his mother. Maybe Mike was just reading too much into it.

“W-Whoa.” Bill’s awestruck exclamation brought him back into the present. They had entered a large cave. It was _huge_. The ceiling was maybe 100 or more feet above them, stalactites dripping from the ceiling. It was empty on the floor, no stalagmites to be seen, save for some sort of altar looking thing in the middle of the floor.

“Ben didn’t mention this,” he muttered. “I thought people didn’t use these.”

“He mentioned that Norman had been obsessed with them while we were researching,” Bev said. “He thought there was something here that he could, like, control or something? I forget the specifics.”

“N-Norman?”

“Yeah,” she replied, walking to the altar. “The kid who killed those orphans. He was like, really into demons and stuff. I think,” she hummed, tongue sticking out a little in thought, “I think he said that Norman wanted to like, cleanse the world or something? I dunno. Sounds mostly like the guy just wanted to be a dick to people weaker than he was.” She reached out to touch the altar and something in Mike’s mind went off.

“Don’t touch that.” His words were sharper than he intended and Bev pulled back, shocked. “Sorry, I just--” He stopped. He didn’t really know what made him say that. “Something’s wrong down here.” The room immediately got colder. Bev moved back over to him and Bill, eyes searching.

“Maybe we should move on,” Bev began but was soon cut off by a shout. All three of them froze. It was distant and Mike couldn’t tell if it was in front of or behind them. They waited and soon there was another. It was closer this time, definitely in front of them, and Bill raced forward, Bev only a step behind him. Mike sighed and jogged after them. That’s when the shout became clearer.

“--CHIE!” It was definitely Eddie. He knew that screech anywhere. The three of them picked up the pace, passing by tunnel after tunnel until they came into another room. It was smaller, the ceiling lower than the other, but just as long. It was narrow and Ben was holding Eddie back from entering a tunnel.

“Eddie! Stop! You getting lost too won’t help!” Ben, calm and collected Ben, was freaking out as he grabbed Eddie by the waist. Eddie was struggling, eyes wide and scared.

“What the fuck?!” Bev yelled, shocking the two into stillness. It lasted only a moment, Eddie taking Ben’s shock as permission to wriggle out of his grasp. Bill stepped in and stopped Eddie from darting down the tunnel.

“Lemme go!” He lashed out, kicking. It was then that Mike noticed Richie was gone.

“What--” He began.

“Richie disappeared,” Ben said, cutting him off.

“W-What?” Bill’s voice was small. Mike could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“Let. Me. GO!” Eddie screamed, continuing to writhe in Bill’s grip.

“Eddie, for fuck’s sake!” Ben snapped. “You running off after him won’t help! We need to stick together in here!”

“You sure he’s not just pulling a prank?” Bev asked, but she sounded nervous. Ben shook his head.

“We’ve been looking and all we’ve found are,” he sighed, “Well. Follow me.” He lead them to the farther side of the room. He shone his flashlight on the ground. Tracks. Like someone had been dragged out of the room. “He was standing here,” Ben muttered. “Then he was just gone.”

“So we follow the tracks.” Bev said. Ben sighed.

“That’s the thing.” He followed the tracks with his flashlight and showed that they ended at a wall. A wall that led towards the tunnel Eddie was still trying to get to. Bill had a strong grip on him, and it looked like Eddie was starting to wind down.

“What th-the hell,” Bill whispered. “W-What the HELL.”

“I know,” Ben said. “I didn’t even--” He clenched his fist, swallowing. “I didn’t even _hear_...” Bev rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades. She began to whisper to him, calming him down. Mike turned back to Bill and Eddie. Eddie was slumped to the ground now, Bill still holding onto him while he cried quietly.

“W-We can’t just leave without him.” Eddie’s voice was small and wet. Bill hugged him tighter.

“W-We’ll find him. I kn-know it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we GO. Let's get this ball GOING. Let's get closer to this SHOW DOWN.
> 
> I've got some filler chapters (like the suggested comments from youtube chapter and one that's just how one of their vids would be edited) and I may toss those in, but I also might like, make a new work with that kinda stuff in it. Not sure yet. Also for a possible sequel of an actual Ghost Gays! thing for when Richie and Eddie are older with two dogs and happily fucking married because fuck you that's why.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much, everyone. I'm having a lot of fun with this, and I'm really glad you are too.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Richie had no _fucking_ clue where he was. He had been in the room with Eddie and Ben, checking out Eddie’s ass while they looked at the walls, when he heard someone calling. He turned, opening his mouth to say something, when he was yanked full body into the wall and blacked out. When he came to, he was in a different part of the cave.

“Fuck,” he said to the empty space. “Fuckity fuck fuck _fuck_.” He thought about freaking out, but his head hurt too much for that. He reached up, running his fingers over the back of his head until he hissed, pressing at a cut. When he checked, there was blood on his fingers. He stood then, wobbling slightly, and tried to get a feel of where he was. It looked like a small room, some sort of vent above him. If that was the right word. He looked around and felt the fear creep up his spine. There were no exit tunnels. He felt around the walls, looking for some sort of hidden _something_ that would reveal a door, or tunnel, or… Richie tried to calm his breathing as he realized he was stuck. The only way out was the vent shaft above him. And it was high up. There was no fucking way he’d be able to get up there.

“...probably just playing a trick.”

“Bev?” He whispered. “BEV!” He called up the shaft, so _fucking_ relieved. “I’M DOWN HERE!”

“...should j-just go.” That was Billy. Wait. Go?

“GUYS!”

“Ugh, he can be such a fucking dick.” That was Eddie, and, wow, that hurt. I mean, yeah, RIchie knew he could be a dick, but he hadn’t actually _done_ anything this time.

“He’ll show up. Let’s just get out of here.” Mike. Richie froze.

“Guys--” He choked on his words, fear and panic bubbling over. “GUYS, NO! I’M DOWN HERE!”

“Honestly,” and that was Ben, “I’m glad to finally have peace and quiet.” Laughter followed. Richie’s heart clenched and he felt his lungs seizing up.

“No,” he rasped.

“Yeah, we sh-sh-should ditch h-him more often!”

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m dating him. He’s so annoying and gross.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why we even bother with an obnoxious prick like him.”

“He deserves to get lost in here.”

“He’s useless and reckless, so why not let him rot?”

“Y-Yeah. Th-Th-Then we can a-a-all move on f-from this dumb y-y-y-youtube shit.”

Richie’s head was swimming. They didn’t think that. That couldn’t be his friends. That couldn’t be _Eddie_. He knew he was loud. He knew his foot was pretty much always waiting by his mouth until he could insert it inside. He knew he was obnoxious but…

“Guys! Please!” He pleaded, tears choking back his screams. “PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME!”

Laughter echoed above him, followed by the sound of people walking away.

“Bye, Richie!” Eddie’s voice sang, stabbing him right through the heart. What? He gasped for air and started clawing at the walls, trying to scramble up.

“PLEASE!” His voice felt raw as he screamed and screamed. He started pounding on the walls of the room. Had it gotten smaller? He could have sworn it was bigger before. He felt like he was suffocating. “EDDIE! GUYS! PLEASE! HELP ME! DON’T LEAVE ME!” The room was shrinking. It shrank and shrank until he could barely move, pounding at the rock walls around him. His vision started to swim and he shook his head, trying to breathe.

There was no way that what he was hearing was true. Sure, he could get on their nerves, but they loved him. Eddie _loved_ him. They hadn’t said so much in words, but Eddie was a part of him. Eddie _was_ his heart, and there was no _fucking_ way he would leave him. He started to breathe more normally, sinking to his knees and pressing his hands against his temples. It had to be the ghosts. Could they make him see things? Would they? The ghosts they had read about hadn’t seemed like the kind to play these kinds of tricks, but it’s not like they would know everything before going in. Something else could have been there. He let out a shuddery breath.

Suddenly, there was someone in front of him. The room had grown - he fucking _knew_ it had gotten smaller - and his eyes darted up, hoping he would see Eddie, not leaving him, but coming back.

It wasn’t Eddie. It was huge. He gaped at it, scrambling back until he hit the wall.

“Th-The FUCK!”

“Ah, so eloquent, Richard.” Whatever the fuck it was, it was smiling at him lazily. Like it was watching a particularly interesting bug. “I knew you’d be the toughest out of all of you; I mean, you’ve convinced yourself you’re funny and worthwhile, so why wouldn’t you be able to easily convince yourself you were hearing things.” Richie didn’t say anything. Convinced himself he was funny? Bitch, he _knew_ he was funny. “What? No come back, Trashmouth?”

“Only my friends get to call me that, dickhole,” his mouth said before he had a chance to stop it. The creature seemed entertained at least.

“Such fire. I love that in a human. So much more fun to smother it out.” Richie’s heart beat faster as it approached. As it did, it shrank, turning into a middle aged looking man with pointy joints and a sharp suit.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I am Mephistopheles,” it replied with a grand bow. It looked up, a sharp grin on its face. “And I am here to make your life hell.” Richie snorted. Mephistopheles frowned. “Something funny?”

“That’s your line? Really?” Richie sat up straighter, furrowing his brow. “‘I am here to make your life hell.’” His imitation was pretty spot on, if he did say so himself. “Like, do you have anything better? More, I dunno, demonic and threatening?”

“How about ‘I’m going to make you watch your boyfriend die in front of you before torturing you to death.’ That clever enough for you?” Richie blanched and nodded, losing his voice. “I bet you think ghosts and demons are some sort of distant _fun_ thing. Real enough to find, but far enough to not be a danger to you.” It stepped forward, needing only one step to be directly in front of him. It leaned down, lowering its face until it was inches away from his. “I assure you,” it hissed, “That the danger you are in, is very, _very_ real.” Richie pushed as far against the wall as he could, more terrified than he had ever been. And he’d faced Eddie’s mother after he broke his arm.

There was the sound of scuffling to his right and Richie looked, noticing a small tunnel, kid sized.

“You lucked out,” it whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

When he looked back, the thing was gone, but the dread that it had blossomed in Richie’s stomach was still there. The room was different now, smaller, more like a storage space, and he realized that everything, except that...that _thing_ had been distorted.

\--

“PLEASE!” Eddie’s head shot up and he rubbed the snot away from his nose.

“Did you guys hear that?” He pulled away from Bill, who finally let him go. The others looked at each other, then back to Eddie.

“Hear what?” Bev asked.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!” The shout was louder this time, catching everyone’s attention. It was coming from where Mike, Bill, and Bev had been.

“Was that--” Ben began.

“PLEASE!” Eddie shot off.

“Sh-Shit!” Bill exclaimed, following after him with Bev, Ben, and Mike hot on his tail.

“EDDIE!” The cry was piercing, making Mike stumble as he ran. He shared a concerned look with Bev. It had sounded so broken, so scared. They ran faster. “GUYS! PLEASE!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bev panted as she ran.

“HELP ME!”

“Richie! Richie where are you?!” Eddie was yelling, standing near the altar in the room. Richie’s voice seemed to come from all around. Eddie was looking around frantically, Bill standing near him. He seemed at a loss. They all were. Eddie looked like he was ready to cry again. Mike closed his eyes, trying to focus on where the sounds were coming from.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!” Mike’s eyes snapped open and he flashed his light into the corner. There was a small tunnel, barely 3 feet tall, though it was wide.

“I think it’s coming from there!” Mike said, pointing. Eddie was the first over. He knelt, trying to see if he could fit through.

“Richie! Richie, I’m coming!” He shouted into the hole. There was no answer and Eddie threw himself into the dirt, wiggling into the hole.

“Eddie! Careful!” Bev said and knelt, looking ready to follow, but Bill beat her to it. He squirmed his way after Eddie, Ben holding Bev’s shoulder to stop her from following.

“Some of us need to wait out here. In case they get stuck.” Bev looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn’t.

\--

Eddie’s head popped through the opening of the small tunnel and Richie felt relief wash over him.

“Richie!” Eddie pulled himself through, barely bothering to stand as he went to Richie and wrapped him up in his arms. Richie buried his face in Eddie’s neck, breathing deeply. Suddenly, Eddie pushed back. Panic gripped Richie for a moment, fake Eddie’s words ringing in his ears. “Never!” Eddie growled. “Never! Do that! Again!” He accentuated each word with a kiss to Richie’s face. It was then Richie noticed that he was covered in dirt, even his face, that Eddie had crawled through a tunnel to get to him, and fuck. That was the hottest fucking thing.

“You’re covered in dirt,” he said, dazed. Eddie scoffed and Richie noticed Bill pulling himself into the room.

“That’s all you have to say?! What the fuck happened?!” Eddie wouldn’t stop touching him, like he needed proof Richie was there. That he was okay. Richie let out a shaky breath.

“You’re never gonna fucking believe this,” he began. “But I’m like 80% sure I just saw a demon.” Eddie paused, disbelief on his face, before it switched to something more scared and cautious.

“Somehow, it’s much easier to believe than you’d think.”

“Y-You guys wanna f-f-finish flirting in n-not this tiny ass s-s-sp-space?” Eddie and Richie both shot Bill a middle finger, but they followed him as he began the crawl back.

Bev was on them the minute they had all crawled through.

“Are you ok? Did you get hurt? Where the _fuck_ were you?!” She slapped Richie on the back of the head. “Do you know how worried we were?!”

“Damn, Bev!” Richie groaned, the cut on the back of his head throbbing slightly. “I didn’t run off! Something fucking took me, thank you!” Ben, Bev, and Mike stopped. Richie sighed and cleaned his glasses on his shirt. Which only made them dirtier.

“Gimme those,” Eddie grumbled, snatching Richie’s glasses and taking off his backpack to get cleaner and cloth. Richie loved him so much. He coughed and turned back to the others.

“So,” he started, “I was in the room with Eddie and Ben when something fucking flung me against the wall and knocked me out.” Ben frowned, upset.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he whimpered. “Fuck, Richie, I’m so sorry.” Richie waved his hand, taking his glasses back from Eddie with the other.

“I don’t think there was sound, honestly. ‘Cause it gets fucking weirder. I wake up in that room, but not… It wasn’t how it was when you guys found me. There were no openings except for this shaft,” he snickered, “Leading up. Then I…” He paused, swallowing roughly. “I heard you guys looking for me, but uh, deciding to leave me.”

“What?”

“We would never leave you behind!”

“I know I know!” Richie held up his hands. “And that’s what was weird! I know I’m an obnoxious ass--”

“But you’re _our_ obnoxious ass!” Bev finished. Richie smiled at her, feeling something in his heart unclench. He wasn’t aware until that moment how much he needed to hear that.

“Exactly. Then the walls fucking shrank, like that’s just a thing walls do or some shit, and I reminded myself that y’all wouldn’t just leave me here. And then,” he let out a gust of air, “That’s when I saw the fucking demon. At least I’m pretty fucking sure that’s what it was.” Mike tensed up beside him. Everyone else stared at him, looking wary. At least they weren’t laughing at the idea.

“A demon?” Bev asked. “What makes you--”

“It made me see and hear things,” Richie said, cutting her off. “How many ghosts can do that? And I mean things like the walls shrinking until you feel like you’re being buried alive or your friends literally yelling goodbye to you as they leave.” He shook his head. “The guy called himself uh, fuck, Memphis? No, shit, uhm...” He closed his eyes, the back of his head suddenly throbbing. He unconsciously rubbed at it, drawing Eddie’s attention.

“Shit, Richie!” He batted Richie’s hand away and yanked his head down for a better look. “We need to get you to a hospital. If you hit your head hard enough to get this, you might have a concussion, and those are bad. I mean, really bad. You don’t even know how bad it is, too. It’ll fuck you up without you even knowing.” He was rambling. Scared. Richie smiled through his wince.

“If we go to the hospital, they’ll tell your mom we’re there, so I think maybe you should just be my personal nurse--”

“Richie.” Ben’s voice was sharp and scared. “Was its name Mephistopheles?” Richie nodded.

“Yeah! That was it. Weird fucking name.” No one seemed to share his humor. Ben looked pale and he was gripping Bev’s hand. Mike looked about ready to throw up. Bill, well, Big Bill was always ready to fight, for a skinny fuck. “Why?”

“I think,” Ben said, voice shaky, “That we have a really big fucking problem on our hands.”

\--

Eddie was not letting Richie out of his sight again. They had made it back to the basement, Richie refusing to let Eddie take him to the hospital, but he had allowed him to test a few of his reflexes and was following Eddie’s strict bed rest orders.

“But, Bev, Eddie said I should rest. I can’t possibly grab my water for myself.”

“It’s literally on the fucking coffee table, Trashmouth. Like, two feet in front of you.”

“But I _have to rest_,” he whined. Bev rolled her eyes and lit the joint she had rolled. Richie turned his puppy dog eyes on Eddie, who wished he didn’t give in so easily. Richie smiled around his curly straw and interlocked his fingers with Eddie’s. Stan was sitting on the floor, laptop out, and Ben had some books spread out in front of him. He let out a small sound, signalling he had found what he was looking for.

“I found it!” Everyone turned their attention to him as he scanned the book. “Mephistopheles is the demon Brewers summoned 100 years ago. Well, give or take.” Mike was stony faced, but Eddie could see his leg bouncing with anxious energy. “He bragged about it in town, though people mostly ignored him, despite his threats to ‘cleanse the world of filth.’” Eddie shivered and thought of Bowers. “Apparently, he ended up being found dead in the basement of the Neibolt house,” Eddie groaned, why was it always that _fucking_ house, “Just, torn apart. There was this giant sigil or something beneath him that had been burned and scratched by a fire. No one knew who set it, or who tore Brewers apart, and they just kinda swept it under the rug.”

“This fucking town,” Mike muttered, shaking his head. “They always do that.” No one argued because, well, it was true.

“I need to look up the demon itself,” Ben muttered, mostly to himself. “The stuff in here is mostly about Brewers and how fucked he was.”

“I saw something a while back,” Mike said, pretty much out of nowhere. Eddie looked at him, at how taut with tension his shoulders were, how they had been that way for the past couple of days, and realized it hadn’t been so much out of nowhere, but building over time. No one said anything, waiting for Mike to speak. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Chips.” Richie snorted and Eddie elbowed him, shooting him a warning glare. This was _so_ not the time.

“Isn’t h-h-he dead?” Bill asked. Mike rubbed at his mouth, dragging his hand over his face, and shrugged.

“He is. But I saw him the other night, when Eddie’s mom went fucking, you know, scratching at the porch like he used to. And then,” he swallowed, his lips somewhat void of color, “He decomposed in front of me.” The room sucked in a collective breath. Mike nodded. “Yeah. He tried to climb onto the porch and he,” he shuddered, “He pushed his head through the railing until it literally started to tear his skin off.” Eddie gagged, covering his mouth with one hand. Mike nodded. “I thought I had imagined it,” he whispered. “I thought it was just my brain playing fucking tricks.” Eddie thought of his not mother, her sharp teeth and dangerous voice. About how unreal it had seemed.

“My mom,” Eddie began, “Wasn’t fully herself that night.” He rubbed his arm. “She had this really dark, dangerous look. Like she wanted to _hurt_ me. And while she’s fucking crazy, she’s only slapped me the once and I don’t think it was really _her_. And, her teeth were sharp too. Inhuman.” Everyone was quiet, the only sound in the room the inhale and exhale of smoke. Everyone was smoking this time around. Even Stan and Ben, who only partook on occasion. Stan rubbed his eyes, looking out of his depth.

“This is fucked up,” he muttered. “This is so fucking fucked up.”

“Thanks, Stan,” Richie said dryly. “Couldn’t figure that one out.”

“Fuck you, Richie,” Stan snapped. “You could have been fucking killed, or lost, or, or _something_. This isn’t a fucking joke!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Richie snapped back. “You weren’t even fucking _there_.”

“Because I’m not an idiot!” Stan yelled. Bill put a hand on his shoulder, Eddie doing the same to Richie.

“Calm d-down, guys,” Bill said. “Nothing is g-going to c-c-come from us f-fi-fighting.” Stan and Richie broke eye contact and Stan shrugged away from Bill’s hand. The room was tense. No one spoke for a long time, except Ben kind of muttering to himself, flipping through his books. He leaned over, snatching Stan’s computer. Stan barely spared a glance, using the freedom of his legs to flop back and spread out. Ben typed furiously, scrolling and searching. Eventually the tension eased, mostly because everyone had begun to fall asleep. They had all agreed that they would stay together that night.

Richie slowly stood, making sure Eddie, who had fallen asleep first as usual, didn’t wake up. He then gently nudged Stan with his foot, leading him upstairs.

“Richie, I--”

“I’m sorry.” Richie scratched the back of his head, hissing when he went over the cut. Stan frowned and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a dish towel before giving it to Richie. “I was an ass down there.” Stan didn’t say anything, just watched Richie squirm. “I know why you don’t come with us, and I really fucking get it, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Stan said, sighing. “I think we’re all just fucking scared.” He fidgeted with the edge of his sweater. “Sometimes,” he said, “Sometimes I _do_ wish I wasn’t so scared so I could go along. That I wouldn’t feel like such a fucking wet blanket all the time.”

“Dude,” Richie replied with a light chuckle, “We need you for that! You’ve met us! We’re all dumbasses!” Stan laughed, rubbing at his eye.

“You are,” he agreed.

“Exactly! We need someone who can put the fire out! Plus, you’re not just a wet blanket.” Richie pushed himself onto the kitchen counter, swinging his legs a little. “You remember your bar mitzvah?” Stan nodded. “How you fucking stood up to your dad and just, stormed out of there? That is still one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen anyone do.” Stan shoved him.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not!” Richie pressed. “You care so much, Stan. You care about things so much, and so deeply.” He squeezed his shoulder. “You have no idea how cool that is.”

“Fuck off, Rich,” Stan replied, without any heat, a soft smile on his face. Richie grinned and gave him a one armed hug. Then he planted a wet, loud smack of a kiss on his cheek. “Ugh!” Stan pushed away. “Careful, or I’ll tell your boyfriend.”

“I’m sure he’d be into it.”

“Want me to go ask? Here, I’ll wake him up for you,” Stan said, heading for the stairs.

“No no no no no!”

\--

“It’s time, child.” Henry jerked, drawing attention from his friends.

“What?” Belch asked.

“Nothing.” Belch and Vic didn’t seem convinced, but they didn’t push it. He’d been on a short fuse as of late, snapping at dumb shit. Belch wasn’t particularly interested in drawing his ire, again. Hockstetter apparently had a death wish though.

“What the fuck has been your problem lately?” He grumbled. Henry narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply, just stabbed the carpet with more force than was needed. Hockstetter rolled his eyes and stood. “This is fucking boring.” As he moved to leave, Henry stood. It was a little shocking, because he hadn’t wanted to stand, but his body did it anyway. And, like someone else was in control, he lifted his arm, knife in hand, and threw it directly into Hockstetter’s shoulder. He screamed, clutching at it, flailing until he pulled it out. “Dude! What the fuck?!” He turned around in a rage, ready to charge. Henry just smiled.

“That fun enough for you?”

“Fuck you,” Hockstetter hissed in response. Henry shrugged, picked up his knife from where it had been dropped, and licked the blood off the blade. Belch and Vic shared equally terrified looks, unsure of how to escape from whatever the fuck was happening.

“I think it’s time,” Henry drawled, his eyes glazed over, “To take things up a notch.”

“W-What?” Belch stammered. Had he not just done that by fucking _chucking a knife into Hockstetter’s arm_.

“Dude, Patrick needs to get to the fucking hospital,” Vic said. “Whatever you’re planning--”

“Y’all are such fucking pussies,” Henry growled. With a snap of his fingers, the blood from Hockstetter’s shoulder began to disappear. The skin knitted over and the bleeding stopped. Vic, Belch, and Hockstetter stared at the wound, then back at Henry. Who suddenly had a fucking _thing_ behind him.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Vic yelled. “I’m fucking out of here!” Before he could make it out the door, Mephistopheles shot forward. He gripped the boys head, wide mouth stretching from ear to ear in a sharp toothed grin. He held Vic there as he struggled.

“No one,” it rumbled, “Is going anywhere.” Belch cowered, ignoring the warmth on his leg as he pissed himself in fright. Hockstetter perked up, thrilling at the smell of blood and violence in the air, now that he wasn’t the target. Vic whined, claws digging into his scalp and cheeks. “It’s time you three joined our little party.”

“Wicked,” Hockstetter breathed out. His grin was twisted, making the demon grip Vic a little tighter in pleasure. Belch was shaking, leaning against the wall for support. Vic had fainted. The demon dropped him, kicking him to the edge of the room.

“It’ll be morning soon,” it said. “And I’m ready to taste the blood of,” he paused, turning to Henry, “What did you call them?”

“Losers. They call themselves the Losers Club,” he sneered.

“Losers. Disgusting human filth.” It shifted in shape then, turning back into its human form. Hockstetter licked his lips and Belch sat on the floor, gripping the back of an unconscious Vic’s shirt. Henry smirked, thrilling at the power that had coursed through him when the demon had taken control.

“Let’s fuck ‘em up.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally trying to get the whole Neibolt fight out, but then Harringrove fucked up my life and I wanted to get some shitty Sonia in here, so the Neibolt fight will finish next chapter. Leaving y'all on a shitty cliffhanger here. But notice, there is no Character Death in the tags and I will tell you now that though ppl will get hurt, everyone is making it out alive. From the Losers Club at least.
> 
> Sorry this took forever. I needed to write some Harringrove fic worms and then write some fluff before getting back to this.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy, sorry this took forever and kinda sucksssssssssss.
> 
> Unbeta'd
> 
> EDIT 11/27/19: Was re reading and noticed I called Bowers Byers and I left it like that for a fucking month!! Can u tell I've been obsessing over Stranger Things.

“Okay,” Ben said, notes spread out over Richie’s dining room table, “We’re dealing with something really goddamned fucked up here.” He pointed to a giant sigil on the table, mouth tight and eyes concerned. “This is the Sigil of Mephistopheles. This, combined with a blood pact, summons him. He helps the summoner achieve what they want in return for their immortal soul.”

“Your basic demon shit, huh,” Richie said.

“Kind of. He’s not like,” he paused, trying to find the words, “He’s pretty much as close to Satan as you can get. Not some weak shit. He preys on people’s fears and can make you see stuff that isn’t there.” He pulled a page closer to him. “Also, apparently, he hates humans like, in general. So there’s that.”

“Great. We’re being hunted by a human hating demon summoned by some fuckwad,” Eddie grumbled. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Is there any way t-to get rid of him?”

“Yes,” Ben said. “We have to break-slash-destroy the Sigil and he’ll be sent away. Which, according to what I’ve read, was done by someone who Brewers was trying to kill, resulting in his death. But that’s one account from someone who ended up institutionalized, so.” He shrugged. “That’s what we’ve got to go on.”

“Fuck,” Mike groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“No,” Ben agreed. “But we at least have a start. We know what we’re dealing with, kind of, and we know where the Sigil is.”

“We do?” Richie asked. Ben gave him a dry look.

“I’ll give you one guess,” he said. Richie’s mouth tightened into a straight line.

“Neibolt.”

“No.” Everyone turned to look at Eddie, who had his arms crossed and a dark look on his face.

“Eddie--” Bev reached out, but he moved back.

“_No_. Or do we not remember that Richie could have fucking died back there.” Mike and Bill looked away, but Bev held her ground.

“We haven’t forgotten that. But do you think doing nothing will stop it from coming after us anyway?”

“At this point, I honestly don’t care. I’m not risking my boyfriend’s life for, for whatever this is!” He threw his hands up. “We’re gonna die either way, but maybe if we just fucking _get out of here_, we can delay it, instead of walking right into it!”

“Eddie!” Bev snapped. He shrugged off her anger.

“I’ve officially had enough of this fucking summer! I’m tired of being chased by shit that’s _trying to kill me_!” His voice was shrill and loud and he hated himself for it, but he was fucking scared. He was terrified of losing Richie right after finally, finally getting him. He looked around the table, but the only one who met his eye was Stan. Wonderful, wonderful Stan. “You agree, right?”

“It’s not what I’d call a good idea,” Stan began, making Eddie smirk, “But like you said, if you’re going to die anyway, why not try to fight? Running won’t do enough in the long run.” Eddie frowned and turned away, stomping off to the living room. Richie sighed and stood up.

“Gimme a sec,” he mumbled. Eddie was on the back porch, pacing, when Richie found him. “Hey.”

“Fuck off.”

“Eds, Spaghetti, babe,” Richie said, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle. He grunted, mumbled something that was probably _don’t call me that_, but didn’t struggle out of Richie’s arms. “I can’t ask you to do this. I can’t. But you can’t stop me from going, as much as you want to.” Eddie did shove out of his arms then. He didn’t look at him, shoulders up to his ears.

“Then fucking go. See if I care.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence and Richie sighed.

“I’m not leaving you alone either. We do this together.”

“So what you’re saying is I don’t have a fucking choice.”

“Eddie--”

“Do you know how fucking scared I was?” He whipped around and Richie was expecting anger, fury, not sadness and fear. “When you disappeared and I didn’t even notice at first and--” He hiccuped a sob and rubbed his hand roughly against his eyes. “I thought you were _gone_ and I… You have been the one constant in my life,” he choked out, not bothering to stop the tears from falling. “Whatever shit happened, I knew you’d be there to fucking annoy me and that I’d be loving you.” Richie was frozen, unable to move or look away. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t have you. Of course I love everyone else,” he said, gesturing to the house, “But you,” he swallowed, “You’re the one thing that I don’t think I could live without.”

“You’d give up hand sanitizer for me?” Richie couldn’t stop himself. Eddie let out a wet laugh and shoved him weakly.

“Fuck you.” He wiped his eyes, smiling falling from his lips. “I can’t… I can’t watch you get hurt.”

“I didn’t really mention it,” Richie said quietly, “But when the demon was threatening us, he, uhm, he threatened me pretty directly.” Eddie took his hand, brow furrowing in the cutest way. “I may have made fun of him--”

“Richie, I fucking _swear to god_\--”

“He said ‘I’m here to make your life hell.’ Am I just supposed to let that slide?” Eddie rolled his eyes and Richie pressed on. “I told him it was weak and did he have anything more demonic to say and,” his breath hitched and he felt his throat close a little, “And he told me he was going to make me watch you die.” Eddie let out a soft gasp. Richie’s hands were shaking and he squeezed the one Eddie had taken hold of. “I’m so scared,” he whispered. “I couldn’t-- I couldn’t live without you either.” He licked his lips. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want this to be our reality, but it fucking _is_ and if that fucking thing wants to hurt you--” He found his throat had closed enough he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t let the tears that were pricking the corners of his eyes fall, but he was close. Eddie cupped Richie’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes with concern, his mouth in the little frown that Richie loved to kiss away.

“If that demon so much as breathes in your direction,” he said, voice tight with fear and rage, “I’m gonna fucking skin it.” Richie let out a burst of surprised laughter. He leaned down, kissing Eddie deeply. Eddie kept him there, holding his face against his. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead to Richie’s. “I guess we’re fighting a fucking demon.”

\--

The plan… Well, the plan was shit. It was a shitty fucking plan, and they all knew it. Essentially, it boiled down to ‘Go in, smash up the Sigil, leave.’ Which was basic, but fuck. There wasn’t really a huge guide to _Avoiding Death by Demon Summoned to Kill You_. Plenty of stuff if you summoned one yourself or were possessed, but nothing for their, apparently, very specific situation. Which was getting worse. Everyone had started to have nightmares. And not just stuff like waking up at school naked or running from something. Stuff like rotting corpses of friends or watching each other die in gruesome ways. Bill had come over to the Tozier’s one night, sobbing and shaking, because he had dreamt of his brother, Georgie, coming back and asking him why he had killed him. Which was already a sore subject, especially because they had never actually found a body.

Eddie had started seeing things in his peripheral. Hands grabbing for him. A shadowy figure that always seemed to be getting closer. Everyone was on edge. But they needed some things before they could go. Namely, Holy Water. Richie had laughed when Eddie suggested it, but when everyone else had backed him up, saying _I mean, what do we have to lose by using it?_, Richie had come around. He did keep saying he wanted to put it in a water gun or spray bottle for effectiveness, which Eddie loudly protested to, despite the fact that it was actually a pretty good idea that they would most likely end up using.

Which was why he was out with Mike, definitely not Richie, who would fucking gloat, looking at super soakers.

“This one makes balls of water,” Mike said. “How cool would that look? Shooting a demon with a Holy Water Sphere.” Eddie sometimes forgot that all of his friends were literal dumbasses. Except maybe Stan and Ben. Though, they too had their moments.

“Well, are we going for cool, or something that will work?” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. Mike frowned, looking hurt.

“We can’t do both?” He held out the water gun. “Like, look at how cool this thing is in general!”

“I should have brought Stan,” Eddie grumbled. He didn’t want to admit it, but it _would_ look pretty cool. “We can get one, see how far it shoots, and then decide if we want more. I figure we should have a couple different kinds, right?” Distantly, Eddie realized how fucking ridiculous they sounded. What water guns were best to fight a demon. None, actually, but fuck, what did they have to lose. A lot, actually. Eddie frowned and sighed.

“You ok?” Mike looked at him, brow furrowed in concern.

“Just… This is so fucked up, you know?”

“Yeah. You don’t gotta tell me twice.” They pulled some more water guns off the shelf and checked out. They walked back to their bikes, Eddie having borrowed Ben’s, a comfortable silence falling between them. Eddie was looking at his shoes when he bumped into Mike’s stiff back. “Dude, what?” Eddie asked, frowning. Then he looked and noticed that their tires had been slashed, their bikes mangled. “Fuck.”

“Dude,” Mike said, his voice wavering. “I think we should go back inside and call Bill.” Eddie nodded, grabbing Mike’s hand and pulling him back towards the store. They waited, Eddie worrying his bottom lip and Mike wringing his hands, until Bill rolled up. They got in and Eddie spared one last glance at the bikes and felt like the air got punched out of him. Bowers was there, grinning and waving with his knife. He blinked and the vision was gone, but the knot of nerves in his belly weighed him down. And suddenly, just like that, it clicked.

“W-What happened?” Bill kept sending Eddie worried glances in the rearview mirror and Eddie finally met his eye.

“Tires got slashed. I just-- I just saw Bowers there.” Mike whipped around to look, even though they were already far enough away it wouldn’t be easy to see. “He was gone just as fast and, uhm, I think I have an idea of who might have summoned the demon.” Bill and Mike were quiet for a moment.

“Oh _shit_,” Mike said. “Oh fuck. That checks out. I mean, we can’t be sure, but who else would do something so--”

“Dumb? Dangerous? Fucking _crazy_?” Eddie supplied, his heart beating faster in his chest. Mike groaned and pressed his palms to his eyes. Bill kept his focus on the road, but Eddie could see the furrow in his brow. Eddie wanted to say something, anything, like Richie, who could bring light to any bad moment. Or be annoying enough for a distraction. But, he wasn’t Richie. Eddie slid down in his seat, hugging the bag of water guns closer to himself and didn’t say anything for the rest of the drive.

They were pulling up to Richie’s house when Eddie spotted his mother’s car.

“Really? Now?” Eddie groaned. Though he still had some lingering fear, the threat of death by demon far outweighed his fear of his mother. Well, kind of. Well, they were on even ground. Bill turned around in his seat after parking, frowning.

“You want m-me to drive around the block?” Eddie contemplated it, but this was a battle that was unavoidable, so he shook his head.

“Might as well bite the bullet now,” he grumbled. Bill and Mike shared a frown before turning to look at Eddie.

“Are you sure?” Mike asked gently. “What she did was really fucked up, Eddie. I don’t know that this is a one and done kind of conversation.”

“Look,” Eddie sighed. “I’m not trying to have the college conversation with her right now, or even one about my sexuality, I just don’t want her to bug the Toziers because I’m too much of a fuck up to stand up to my mother.”

“Hey,” Bill said. “You are not a f-fuck up! It’s crazy you m-m-made it this far with her b-breathing down your neck all the time!” His smile was so radiant, Eddie found himself returning it, ever so slightly.

“What are you going to say to her?” Mike still looked concerned, though Eddie knew it was because his mother was, quite honestly, the _worst_.

“I honestly don’t know,” Eddie replied. “Mostly that I’m not coming back home if she doesn’t let me go to college. I don’t think she’ll ever accept the gay thing but,” he shrugged, “One battle at a time.” He handed his bag of super soakers to Bill and got out of the car. He took a deep breath and marched towards the sound of his mother’s shrill voice.

“You can’t keep me from my son!”

“He’s not even here, Sonia,” Maggie snapped. “And even if he was, based on what he’s told me, I wouldn’t let you see him anyway.”

“You--!”

“Mom,” Eddie said. She whipped around, eyes wild, and froze when she saw Eddie. Her eyes narrowed, but he could see her lip beginning to wobble.

“Eddie-bear!” Before he could step back, she wrapped him up in a hug. “I’ve been so worried! Why haven’t you answered my calls or come home? What on Earth has gotten into you?” She frowned, gripping his arm tightly. “It’s those friends of yours, isn’t it? I don’t know why you refuse to see how they’ve separated us and made you hate me--”

“Mom!” Eddie pulled out of her grip while she was shocked and took a deep breath. “I left because you threatened to lock me in my room forever. This has nothing to do with my friends.”

“I was just overly worried--”

“No, mom,” Eddie said, cutting her off. “You were mad at me. And I-I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Eddie hated that he was choking up about it, “But if you want me to come home, you need to accept some things. Namely, that I’m going back to college.”

“Eddie, I know I was a bit rash, but would it really be so bad to come home? I’ve been feeling worse lately, you know. My back has been giving me so much trouble.” She was beginning her pathetic ‘Woe is me’ routine and Eddie hated it. Hated that she kept wrapping him around her finger. That she really thought he’d give up Richie and college to stay home and take care of her. That she ignored who he was so she could see who she wanted.

“So one of your sisters can come and help,” he replied coolly. “I love you, mom, you know that,” she whimpered, but he pushed on, “But I want more from life than living in Derry. I want to be a nurse and help people, I want to move somewhere warm, and I want to be with Richie.”

“Eddie, you can’t be serious.” She gave him a sickly sweet pitying look. “Even with your grades, do you think you can handle Nursing School? It’s so stressful, and you’re so fragile as it is--”

“I’m not--” Eddie began, but she bowled over him, as usual.

“It would tear you apart! And I know how sad you’d be if you tried and couldn’t do it, so why not just come home?” Eddie wanted to speak, wanted to yell so badly, but he couldn’t form the words. All he could do was shake, furious and humiliated. His mother began to smile, like she knew she had won. “You know I’m right, Eddie-bear. Come home, please.”

“Excuse me.” Sonia turned and came face to face with a furious Maggie Tozier. “I know you think it’s not my business--”

“It’s not!” Sonia shrieked.

“But,” Maggie yelled over her, “Since you decided to come to my house and do this on my lawn, I’m going to tell you something, Sonia.” She took a deep breath and locked eyes with Eddie’s mom. “Your son is smart, strong willed, and loyal to a fault. I know. I watched him grow up.” Eddie could feel his eyes watering, but he couldn’t do more than stare open mouthed. “If he wants to be a nurse, I assure you, he will be. As his mother, you should be supporting him, not locking him away!” She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Now, while I have many, _many_ more things to say to you, I think it’s time you leave.” Sonia sniffed and reached for Eddie. “Alone.” Maggie looked at Eddie, face serious. “Unless you want to go. But you are more than welcome here.”

“You can’t keep me from my son!” Sonia snapped.

“Actually,” Maggie snapped, “If he doesn’t want to see you, if he wants to stay here, you can’t do anything to stop him.” Both women looked at him then and Eddie swallowed around the weird lump in his throat.

“Mom--”

“I knew you’d choose right--”

“I’m not coming home with you.” She froze, eyes wide with shock, mouth agape. He steeled himself then, ready for her to start the waterworks. “I’m-I’m not whoever you think I am. And until you accept who I am, not who you want me to be, I’m not coming home.”

“Y-You can’t mean that,” she said, voice watery. Fat tears began to roll down her cheeks and Eddie hated that it worked. That he felt guilty.

“I do. We can keep talking about this. I want to.” She didn’t listen to him. Just kept crying and shrinking in on herself. He sighed and took her hand, kissing her cheek. “Come on. I’ll help you to the car.” She went with him, surprisingly, and got buckled in the car before looking at him.

“Why do you hate me?” Her voice was so weak, so pathetic, Eddie could feel his resolve crumble. He took a step back, forcing distance between them.

“I love you, mom. Go home.” He turned on his heel and went inside Richie’s house.

The gang was in the basement, hushed whispers floating up the stairs. They cut off quickly when Eddie started down, Richie appearing at the bottom of the stairwell.

“Eds!” He reached for Eddie, pulling him into his arms as soon as he could. They didn’t bother to move, just sat at the bottom of the stairs. “What happened? Are you ok?” Eddie shrugged. He wasn’t okay, not really, but he wasn’t freaking out as much as he should be. Maybe it was the shock.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie looked at Bev and shook his head. “We’re here when you do.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly. Richie stood then, but didn’t let go of Eddie. He brought him to the group, making Stan move over on the couch, before sitting them both down. Eddie sagged into him, suddenly tired. His friends surrounded him, dog piling on him and Richie. No one needed to speak to hear the words of love being said between them.

\--

“Okay,” Mike said. “Holy Water Guns?”

“Check!” Richie said with a smile. He elbowed Eddie and waggled his brows. Eddie ignored him.

“Bats? Check,” Mike continued.

“And check!” Bill said.

“I brought a crowbar, just in case,” Bev added. Mike blinked, but continued on.

“Okay. Maybe we should bring an axe?” Mike had been on edge since they had realized that Bowers was involved with the demon. Bill and Mike had informed everyone of Eddie’s theory while he was talking with his mom, which Eddie was resolutely _not_ thinking about, and everyone had agreed it made the most sense.

“Do we want Bowers getting his hands on an axe?” Stan deadpanned. No one said anything. No one needed to. They stood around for a moment before Bill squared his shoulders.

“Let’s g-go.”

“We sure we don’t need anything else?” Ben asked. “We want to be ready to get this done. There’s no second chance.”

“I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Richie replied. There was a collective pause, no one wanting to leave the safety of the Tozier’s front yard, but Bill pushed forward, leading them away.

When they arrived at the Neibolt house, Eddie could feel the ominous presence of it, seeping out of the cracks. It loomed over them, decrepit and decaying, making Eddie swallow back the fear rising in his throat. They had their water guns. Bill and Mike had the bats. Bev had her crowbar. Stan was wringing his hands nervously, but there was a determined and grim look on his face. Richie was next to Eddie, gripping his hand in his. It was now or never.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Eddie whispered.

“We’re having a fun summer group activity,” Richie replied. Eddie rolled his eyes, but felt some of the tension ease out of his shoulders. Mike rolled his shoulders back and nodded.

“Let’s do this.” He and Bill took the lead, everyone else falling in behind them. They didn’t even talk about splitting up. There was no need.

Inside the house was _disgusting_. There were rats running around and rats laying around, pools of blood near their necks. Then there was the pile of rat and squirrel heads that had Eddie dry heaving. Stan Did Not look. There was dust floating in the air, mingling with the stench of death and shit, literal shit. There were a few beams of light coming through the boarded up windows, but it was like the house sucked the light out of the rooms. It was dark and dank and Eddie wished he had brought his head lamp. Richie knelt down and picked up a beer can, which, gross, and sniffed it.

“Been about 2 days since there’s been life here, my lads,” he said, Aussie voice taking over. Eddie rolled his eyes and walked towards the kitchen. They all knew they were looking for the basement, but they hadn’t been in the house for years. No one could quite remember where the door was. Eddie heard a creak behind him, whipping around. It was just Stan, following him. He let out the breath he had been holding and went back to scanning the room.

“I hate it here,” Stan whispered, voice tight with anxiety. “It’s gross and dangerous and I’ve never had a good feeling about it.”

“Makes sense there’s a bunch of demon shit,” Eddie mumbled. Stan hummed in response. That’s when Eddie saw it. A wave of fear rushed over him at the sight. The door wasn’t particularly scary itself; it was a faded white with chipping paint and rusted hinges. But knowing what was down there. What was waiting for them. What was probably watching them right now, waiting to make its move. Eddie swallowed and stayed where he was, goosebumps prickling his skin. “Hey guys!” He called. “I found--” 

It was then that things started happening very fast.

He was cut off by something smashing into the side of his face. He cried out as he fell, hitting the ground hard. His eye throbbed in pain and he scrambled back up. Stan was pressed against the counter, behind Bill, who was shoving Bowers away. Eddie wondered why he thought that maybe this could have gone fucking well. That it could be a quick, scary romp into an abandoned house. That they could have gotten rid of the demon, washed their hands of the situation, and he could ride off into the sunset with Richie and never fucking look back.

Bowers grabbed Bill by the wrist and pulled him forward, using the movement to knee him in the gut. Bill let out a pained gurgle and clutched at his stomach, but didn’t go down. He swung a slow fist at Bowers, who dodged, and brought his fists down on Bill’s back. Eddie noticed that across the room, Hockstetter was kneeling above someone, laughing hysterically as he did something that Eddie couldn’t quite see. Judging by the shoes, it was Mike, and he wasn’t getting a makeover. Eddie surged forward, not sure whether to help Mike or Bill, when Bev came in and bashed Hockstetter against the side of the head with the crowbar. He went down like a bag of sand, thumping against the wall limply. Eddie couldn’t tell if he was alive or not from where he was, but also found he did not give a flying fuck. 

He and Bev made eye contact, both of them panting and shaking when there was a scream from the other room. It got louder and Ben was pulled into the room by something that neither of them could see. He clawed at the floor, trying to grab something, anything, catching the edge of a doorway and clinging. Eddie moved forward but was shoved harshly against the corner of the kitchen counter by the continued scuffle between Bill and Bowers. Bowers still had the upper hand, of course, but Bill was holding his ground. He looked like hell, bruises beginning to blossom on his jaw and cheek, and he swayed a little on his feet. Eddie saw Mike was still on the floor, though he was sitting up, clutching at his neck and coughing. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw bruising around Mike’s neck.

Bev had grabbed Ben while Eddie was distracted, pulling on both his arms. Ben’s face was twisted in pain, his body stretching as he was tugged on both sides. Bev was crying, but she stood fast, gritting her teeth with the effort it took to keep Ben from being pulled away. His body was lifted off the floor, something tugging relentlessly at his feet. It seemed to be pulling him towards the basement door. Suddenly, there was a pop, making Bowers pause and look up. Ben screamed in agony and, just as suddenly, the invisible force stopped. Bev stumbled back with the sudden lack of resistance. It was then Eddie realized that he hadn’t seen Richie and his blood went cold.

Like he knew Eddie was worried, Richie came into view. Really, he was more of a blur. He tackled Bowers and they rolled across the floor and right into the basement door. Which, oh so helpfully, decided to swing open and Eddie could only watch as his boyfriend and the guy who tried to kill him tumbled down the stairs together.

“Richie!” He screamed. Everyone froze and the basement door slammed shut.

“Fuck!” Bill got up, his eye swelling nicely, and grabbed his bat. It had been dropped in the scuffle, though luckily Bowers hadn’t picked it up. “F-Fuck!”

“Stan,” Mike said. Eddie whipped around, having forgotten Stan was there. He was pressed against the wall, eyes tightly shut, as he whispered a prayer of protection. “Stan,” Mike repeated, slightly louder. Stan’s eyes snapped open and he sagged in relief when he saw that Bowers was gone. He quickly tensed up, however, when he saw Ben sitting with Bev on the floor, clutching at his bicep. His shoulder looked awkward, inhuman, and Eddie realized it had been dislocated. Stan went over, his usual mother hen mode activated, and began gingerly touching Ben to assess the damage.

“How--”

“Something,” Ben grit out, yelping in pain when Stan pressed a sore spot, “Was pulling me. Bev tried to help,” he hissed out, but stopped to bite his lips as he stifled another scream.

“I ended up not helping at all,” she said quietly.

“Hey,” Ben panted, smiling tightly, “I didn’t get pulled down there, so I think you helped plenty.”

“Okay, well, Richie _did_ end up down there,” Eddie snapped, drawing everyone’s attention. Mike put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a warning look. Eddie scoffed and wrenched away.

“Stan, keep an eye on Ben and Hockstetter. If he wakes up, fuck, I don’t know. Hit him with something.” Stan paled but nodded once, sharply. Mike twirled his bat in his hands as Bill and Bev joined him by the door. Eddie pushed forward and tried to shove it open. It wouldn’t budge.

“Oh fuck you!” Eddie had had just about enough of this demon’s shit. He was tired. He was cranky. He was _gross_. He hadn’t gotten to makeout with his boyfriend in almost a _week_.

“Here,” Mike said. He gently moved Eddie away before kicking the door forcefully. It made a cracking sound, but still didn’t open. Mike grit his teeth and leaned on Bill and Eddie for support as he tried again. More cracking and a hint of splintering, but it would not budge.

“Fuck!” Eddie screamed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a fucking month!
> 
> I had a convention, a bout of writer's block, and a hyperfixation on Harringrove that kinda stopped me from getting this out. I worked on it for a long time (I sat and stared at it for WEEKS), and I'm still not like, crazy happy with it, but I do like it and I wanted to get something out!
> 
> Gonna reiterate, none of the main seven die. My babies go through it enough.
> 
> I plan on finishing this up with one more chapter, to tie everything up in a nice little bow, and maybe doing a thing when they're older. Maybe. We'll see.
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual!  
TW for the F-Slur; it's used by Bowers near the 3/4 mark
> 
> I'm not a doctor and I know all these nerds would be getting infections, but *magic*
> 
> EDIT:  
If u read this like 5 min after I posted there were no italics starting like almost right away and y'all know I love my italics so that's been fixed!

Richie came to, only faintly aware of a weight on top of him, but acutely aware of a throbbing in his head. He smacked his lips, which were dry and tasted like blood. The last thing he remembered was tackling Bowers off of Bill. Brave dumb Bill. He had gone in, fists swinging, and had gotten the shit pretty much royally kicked out of him. But, he protected Eddie. Eddie. Who Richie last remembered screaming as he tumbled down the stairs. He snapped his eyes open. Above him, Henry Bowers was looming. He smiled, all sharp teeth, when he saw Richie coming to. He looked deranged, his mullet wild and blood splattered on him. Richie squinted. And maybe he was dreaming, or had hit his head really hard, because Bowers’ eyes looked almost red.

“Hey there, Trashmouth,” he teased, giggling delightedly in a way that made Richie’s stomach turn. He bucked up, trying to dislodge him, but Bowers just laughed harder. “You’re not going anywhere, so don’t fucking bother.” Richie bucked again and Bowers’ smile sharpened, glinting like the knife in his hand. Again, Richie bucked. Or, at least, tried to. He couldn’t move an inch.

“W-What the fuck?” He tried relentlessly, but couldn’t even turn his head to the side. He was prone on the floor, arms and legs spread out, a fucking psychopath on top of him, and he _couldn’t move_. His breath sped up as panic rose in his gut. Bowers traced the edge of his blade along the vein in Richie’s arm.

“You fucking pieces of shit have been a thorn in my side for too long,” he said. “You ruined my fucking life.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“_You_ ruined your life, dickbag.” Bowers sneered and backhanded him so hard his ears rang. His glasses had been knocked askew as well, making the world half blurry.

“Want to say that again?”

“Yeah,” Richie snapped, anger nearly overtaking his fear, “I do. You nearly killed two of my friends, shithead!”

“They were asking for it.”

“By doing what?! Living their goddamn lives?” Richie expected the punch, but wasn’t any more ready for it than the slap. He groaned, pain blossoming from his cheek. He then felt the knife Bowers was holding begin to press into his skin. Bowers’ eyes gleamed and he pressed harder, making Richie hiss in pain as blood trickled from the tiny cut. “It’s pathetic, really. The way you all depend on each other. Fucking disgusting.”

“Fuck you,” Richie spat out. He was scared, yeah, but that didn’t make Bowers any less vomit inducing. Plus, Richie knew he and his friends were very codependent. They didn’t do much of anything alone, usually at least a pair. But it was because they knew each other. Knew everything, the good and bad, but still loved each other. He wasn’t one to get sentimental, not often, but they _were_ family. All of them. And he refused to be ashamed about it.

Plus, Bowers had terrorized all of them and that kind of trauma connected people.

“God, I am so tired of hearing you talk,” Bowers sneered. “It’s giving me a fucking headache.” He twirled his knife before holding it against Richie’s forearm again. “Maybe your screaming will help.” And he began to cut into Richie’s skin. Richie bit his bottom lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Even though it hurt like a fucking bitch. The sting as the knife broke the skin and the sharp pain as it tore through the flesh. It was then he realized that Bowers was making multiple organized cuts, instead of the random slashes he was expecting. He looked down, and though it was a shitty view, he could tell Bowers was writing something.

“Branding me too?” He grit out. “Like you did to Ben?”

“No,” Henry replied, face twisted in a deranged smile. “I’m just making you look pretty.” He smiled and sliced harder. This time, Richie screamed. The pain was fierce, flooding over Richie until it was all he could feel. The press and drag of the knife across his skin. The scratching in his throat as he screamed himself raw. Bowers was laughing, wild and feral in a way he hadn’t been in school. He carved and carved, till Richie was reduced to whimpering sounds. His vision swam a bit, blacking at the edges, and Richie wished he had remembered to tell Eddie he loved him. The amount of blood he was going to lose would probably cinch his death warrant, and, despite how dumb it was, he was glad. The demon might be torturing him, might kill him soon before he even bleeds out, but it hadn’t gotten to Eddie. Richie smirked to himself. _Take that demon_, he thought, _you ain’t shit_. Bowers pulled back, finally, licking the blood off the blade. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He said, two voices coming out of his mouth, “The way the red makes the symbols stand out against the skin…” He trailed a finger over the cuts, pressing at one, wiggling the tip of his finger into the gash, until Richie yelped. He bit his lip, swallowing the whine that wanted to leave his throat, and looked at Henry, confused. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Fuck,” Richie breathed out, teeth clenched around the pain, “You.” He spit into Bowers’ face, slightly shocked that he managed to hit him right on the cheek. Bowers let out a noise of disgust and wiped the loogie off his face, eyes murderous. He jerked his arm back, knife ready to slice, when he was suddenly gone from Richie’s view. Then, Eddie was there, holding his face.

\--

Bev rubbed circles between Eddie’s shoulder blades as Mike and Bill took turns trying to shove the door open. Stan was worrying over Ben while keeping a stern eye on Hockstetter, who continued to lay prone and motionless on the floor. He hadn’t moved since being hit, but he’d always been a loose canon, someone to avoid, so they kept their distance. Eddie panicked as Bill, once again, smashed into the door with his bat.

“Fuck!” He screamed as it bounced off. He kicked at the door again for good measure. “F-Fuck!”

“What are we gonna do?” Eddie whispered out. He could barely gather the air to get it out, his lungs seizing as his mind filtered through every horrible thing that could be happening to Richie. “What are we gonna do?” He pleaded. Bev pulled him into a tight hug, voice watery when she spoke.

“We’re gonna save him, Eddie. We’re gonna save him.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself too.

“Okay,” Stan said, standing up from his place beside Ben. “Is there a big lamp or pole or log or _something_ here that would make a good battering ram? It shouldn’t be able to--” He was cut off by a scream of pain from the basement. Richie.

“Richie!” Eddie shot forward pounding on the door with his fists. “What the fuck are you doing to him!” He turned to his friends, pale and unaware of the tears rolling down his cheeks. “It’s hurting him we have to get in there!”

“Stand back,” Mike said. He rolled his shoulders and slammed forward again, ramming the door. It creaked. Growling, he pulled back and did it again, barely pausing between each body check. Bill joined him, then Bev, and finally Eddie. The four of them surged together until there was a final, splintering crack and the door burst open.

“Careful!” Stan called after them.

\--

The basement was disgusting, blood and dirt smeared everywhere. Eddie gagged but couldn’t think about it. They scrambled down loudly, but did not disturb Bowers. He was smiling, pressing a finger into a wound on Richie’s arm. His mouth moved, the words _Fuck you_ easy to read on his lips, and he spit up at Bowers. Got him good, too. Before Eddie could even feel proud, Bowers jerked his arm back, and his mind went blank. He shoved Bowers off, using the door ramming adrenaline, and let Mike, Bill, and Bev deal with him while he bent down next to Richie. He was dazed and bleeding from cuts on his arm, some sort of runes or symbols littering his forearm and inner bicep, but alive.

“Richie! Rich! Can you hear me? Are you ok? What the fuck did that asshole do to you?” Eddie touched him everywhere he could, eyes frenzied and worried and Richie loved this little asshole. The blood loss and pain made his brain fuzzy, made him want to close his eyes, but Eddie’s worried face, his big brown eyes gazing into Richie’s, was enough to keep him awake.

“I love you,” he blurted out. Eddie paused, a light flush on his cheeks. Before he could respond however, Bev let out a shriek. Eddie snapped his head around, standing so quickly he felt a little light headed. Bev had the crowbar in her white knuckled fists, blood and hair on one end, and she was staring at Bowers. Bowers. Who had blood running down the side of his head from where he had been hit with the crowbar. Who had flecks of bone around the dent in his head. Who was _still standing_ after getting reamed with a fucking crowbar and getting a fucking _dent_ in his _head_.

“What the fuck!” Mike got out, before Bowers rushed at Bev. She seized up, holding the crowbar between her and Bowers. Mike ran up and swung, smashing Bowers’ knee. They all heard the crack when the bat made contact. They saw Bowers go down. Saw the way his leg bent wrong. And they all watched him get back up. His leg moved awkwardly, the knee destroyed, and Eddie thought he might’ve seen some bone. Blood began to soak his jeans, leaving a dark stain that ran down his shin. But he _stayed up_.

“Fuck,” Bill breathed out. Bowers, who they were coming to realize was maybe not actually _Bowers_, let out an inhuman roar, turning around to focus on Mike. Mike backed away, bat held in front of him, at the ready. Bowers charged him, moving so quickly it was like he hadn’t been hurt at all. Eddie grimaced at the slick sound of his knee, which squelched as he ran. He slashed forward with his knife, slicing Mike’s hand. He yelped and dropped the bat, giving Bowers an opening to slash across his chest as he moved back. Eddie sprung forward then, tackling Bowers with a feral scream. He was so fucking angry, so tired, that all rational thought was promptly leaving him. He tried to pin Bowers, somewhat uselessly.

Bowers writhed under him, guttural noises pulled out from the back of his throat, and he tossed Eddie to the side. Eddie scrambled to get up, grabbing his water pistol from his pocket because _what did he have to lose_, but Bowers stomped on his hand, smashing the water gun, and he felt some of his fingers break. He let out a pained scream as Bowers dug his heel in, twisting it.

“You stupid fucking _faggot_!” Bowers pulled his arm back, ready to strike, when his body convulsed. He dropped his knife and clutched at his chest, gurgling a little. Eddie took the chance to grab the knife and brandish it in Bowers’ direction.

They watched as his body twisted and morphed, bulging where it shouldn’t. He screamed, eyes going wide and white as they rolled back. Blood and bile dripped from his mouth as he coughed and dropped to his knees, hands tearing at his own skin. A horrible, gurgling scream was wrenched from deep inside him, and then Bowers fell. His head hit the floor with a loud crack and he lay there, unmoving. Bill limped closer, poking at Bowers’ shoulder. There was no response. Mike joined Bill and they flipped Henry over. Bev whimpered and shut her eyes tightly. Mike made a small retching noise and Bill had gone white as a sheet. Eddie didn’t need to look to know that he was dead. That he had been mutilated by whatever he had brought into their world. He wished he could feel bad, but he didn’t.

Suddenly, his hand throbbed, the pain rushing in after the adrenaline. He yelped and dropped the knife, cradling his broken hand to his chest. It was already bruising, some fingers bent the wrong way, and Eddie felt like vomiting looking at it. Then, he remembered Richie.

“Richie!” Eddie turned and stumbled over to where his boyfriend lay on the ground. Richie hadn’t moved, his arms still bleeding sluggishly, the wet patch at his pocket where the water gun had burst drying slightly, and Eddie felt his throat start to close up. “No no no no no,” he rambled quietly, nearly collapsing next to Richie. “Please, Rich, please don’t be dead.”

“And leave you alone?” Eddie let out a broken sob when he heard the scratchy voice. Richie opened his eyes slowly, obviously not okay, but alive. He was _alive_. “I would never.”

“I love you too,” Eddie replied, sniffling slightly. They shared a smile, blood staining Richie’s lips and teeth.

“You help R-Richie,” Bill called to Eddie. “We’ll bash th-this fucker to pieces.” He gestured at the sigil, Mike and Bev already hovering by it with their respective weapons. Eddie nodded and went about trying to figure out how he would lift Richie up with a broken hand. He probably wouldn’t be able to do it without help…

“Fuck!”

“Shit!”

“F-Fuck!” There was a low, gurgling hiss and suddenly the demon was there. It didn’t look human, not anymore. This time, it was large and red, it’s skin dripping off like melted flesh. The group took a collective step back, unable to do much more than watch as the demon grew before them. The smell of death that seemed to inhabit the Neibolt house grew until it was a heady stench that clogged Eddie’s sinuses. He gagged, drool pooling in his mouth like he was about to vomit. Richie groaned beside him and struggled to get up.

“Don’t,” Eddie gasped out, pressing his good hand to Richie’s chest. “You’ll hurt yourself.” Richie, for once, listened, and stayed down.

“You must think you’re all so clever,” the demon sneered. Its voice grated on Eddie’s ears; it was like hearing multiple people talk at once, the pitches discordant and harsh. “Did you think it’d be that easy? To get rid of _me_?” It swiped out, causing Bill, Mike, and Bev to jump back and out of the way. Bev stumbled on a loose pipe behind her and fell to the floor. Eddie heard something plastic clatter and shatter under her hiss of pain; it must have been her water gun. He wondered if Bill or Mike even remembered they had theirs. She stayed down, picking at the glass that had embedded itself in her hands.

“We’re not scared of you!” Mike yelled, eyes fierce and determined. Eddie had to disagree; he was scared shitless. But he understood what Mike was going for. The demon, however, seemed unimpressed.

“As nice as fear is,” it said, “I don’t need you to fear me to be better and stronger than you.” And with a flick of its wrist, Bill and Mike were lifted off the floor, something invisible wrapping around them and squeezing. They dropped their bats, struggling against the demon’s psychic grip. The demon laughed and a chill crept down Eddie’s spine. “What pathetic little worms,” it sneered. “Once this town succumbs to me, you’ll know what true power is. Don’t you want that?” It brought Bill closer and ran a long claw down his cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to make your parents see you? To love you again?” Bill paled, his face twisted in anguish as the demon taunted him. “I could bring him back you know. Georgie.”

“Shut up!” Bill shouted, kicking at the demon.

“You could see him again and apologize. You could get the power to save him. So he never gets hurt again.” Bill froze and Eddie’s heart squeezed. Suddenly, Richie was sitting up beside him.

“Rich--!”

“Don’t listen to him, Big Bill!” Richie’s voice was croaky, but it carried across the room and made the demon sneer. Bill let out an angry yell, writhing in the demon’s grip as he pushed his way out. Mike was doing the same, wrestling with all his might. The demon turned its attention to him.

“You could make everyone feel how you feel,” it hissed sweetly. “To know what it’s like to live on the outside. To be shunned.”

“No one should feel that way!” Mike yelled, eyes fierce, and Eddie felt a lump swell in his throat because Mike was _too good_. The demon didn’t have _shit_ on Mike Hanlon. “We know all about you, asshole!” The demon looked slightly taken aback.

“You tell him, Mike!” Richie shouted. Bill freed an arm and began trying to shove himself out of the demon’s grip.

“You’re the pathetic one!” Mike sneered. “Hurting people because you’re jealous! Because you think you’re better than us!”

“I am,” the demon growled. “I’ve lived since the dawn of time.”

“And you’ve s-sucked since then t-too!” Bill yelled. The demon let out a roar and Mike screamed as he and Bill were thrown higher.

“Yeah!” Richie yelled. “You’re a lousy demon! You dumb-- dumb-- butt face!”

“Butt face?” Eddie murmured.

“I’ve lost a bit of blood,” Richie drawled, eyes a little droopy. He smiled lightly. “Not at the top of my game, Eds.” Before Eddie could reply, there were shrieks from behind. He whipped back around, hand gripping Richie’s bicep tightly, and gaped as Mike was thrown against the wall, head hitting the concrete with a crack, and Bill was thrown into the floor, hard, landing face first with a sickening crunch. Neither of them moved.

“Are you--” Eddie began, not wanting to leave Richie, but _fuck_.

“Go,” Richie said, lurching forward a bit, “I’ll be okay.” Eddie didn’t believe him, but kissed him fiercely before running for Bill. Bev was already over by Mike, shaking him slightly and crying. Eddie rolled Bill over, gurgling in disgust when he got a good look at his face. His nose was definitely broken, blood gushing down his chin, but he was still breathing. Behind them the demon was laughing, pleased with itself.

“See how useless it is to care about people? You could have gotten rid of me long ago if you had sacrificed your friends for the cause,” it taunted. Eddie grit his teeth and looked to Bev, who nodded in relief. He did the same back. “Bowers did. And if he hadn’t misbehaved he would have gotten what he wanted.”

“Oh my god!” Eddie seethed. He spun to face the demon. “Do you _ever_ get tired of hearing yourself talk? You’re worse than Richie!” Eddie thought he heard a weak protest of _hey_ behind him, but his rage had him so focused the thought slipped out as easily as it slipped in.

“Excuse me?” The demon snarled.

“I am so tired of hearing your bullshit! Of dealing with your bullshit!” Eddie yelled. “Do you know how fucking exhausting this summer had been? I almost used my fake ass inhaler because of the fucking stress! And now you!” He snatched up one of the bats. “This is for almost killing my fucking boyfriend!” He swung the bat above his head, his hot white rage blinding him to the pain gripping the bat with both hands caused, and smashed it into the wooden floor below him. The demon roared as Eddie swung again and again, wood chipping under the metal bat. Before he could swing a fourth time he heard Bev cry out and a stuttering cry; the demon had Richie by the throat, hoisting him into the air. He clawed at his neck, trying to pull the invisible force away.

“Swing again,” the demon hissed, “And I’ll really kill him.” Eddie froze, tears of pain, rage, and fear falling down his cheeks, when the demon let out an inhuman cry. It pierced through him and made his guts clench. Richie dropped to the floor, coughing. He gave Eddie a thumbs up, so he turned to the demon, letting out a primal roar that shocked even him, and began smashing again. There was steam pouring off of its left side; it clutched at its face in agony. Bev kept shooting at it with Mike’s water gun, throwing it at the demon when it no longer shot far enough. The demon snarled and whined, slashing out at Bev weakly. But she moved deftly out of the way, anger almost stunning on her face, and snatched up her crowbar. The demon gurgled, “You can’t--”

“Suck our collective dick, shithead,” Bev sneered. And together, she and Eddie swung, bringing their respective weapons down, and smashed the Sigil. It cracked and splintered under the onslaught. The demon writhed and screamed with each hit, until the floor beneath them was dirty rubble. The demon let out a screech that cut through them, before puffing into nothingness. Eddie and Bev stared, waiting for the demon to pop back up, but nothing happened. No _Gotcha!_, no _Surprise, Bitch_. Neither of them moved until there was a soft groan from Richie’s direction. Eddie dropped the bat, crying out in pain when he unclenched his broken hand. He rushed over, once again unable to stop touching Richie.

“Rich! Rich!”

“E-Eddie,” he coughed, still rubbing at his throat. “I need to tell you something…”

“Anything,” Eddie whispered, heart thudding.

“You yelling at that demon gave me a boner and you still have one good hand--” Eddie cut him off with a bright laugh and a kiss on the lips. Richie smiled against his lips and he heard Bev make a gagging sound behind them.

“I will cut your dick off, Trashmouth,” Eddie mumbled against his lips. He was smiling too much for it to be taken seriously.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bev said, voice laced with exhaustion. Eddie turned and bit his bottom lip.

“Bill and Mike are still out cold,” he observed. “And with my hand and Richie’s arm and Ben’s shoulder…” He sighed and shuddered. “I think we need to call the police.”

“Eddie--”

“I know. His father is a shithead but, well, fuck.” They both looked at the bloody remains of Henry Bowers, his body spread out over the smashed Sigil. Literally. “Yeah, let’s do ambulance first.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Been almost a year. I've been sitting and staring at this final chapter for a very long time. I got whipped up into Harringrove, and just didn't know _where_ I wanted this to really go. What I wanted/needed to have happen.
> 
> I think I'm happy with this. It's not perfect, but it's happy, and that's what _I_ want for this fic.
> 
> Sorry to have taken so long, and to not pump out anything incredible, but I hope this ending satisfies you the way it did for me.
> 
> Thank you to all who stuck through me with this, who commented on every chapter, who just... Y'all are amazing and thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I just hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
> 
> Unbeta'd  
(Also, this is the first ever long chaptered fan fic I have ever finished. Small amounts of chapters, no biggie, but long??? Never happened. I'm glad it happened with these Nerds.)

“Hey guys.” 

Richie, Bev, Bill, and Eddie were set up in front of the camera, sitting on the couch in Richie’s basement. It’d been a week since the demon, a week full of police and bullshit and healing, and the group had finally figured out how they wanted to approach their final video of the summer.

“We realize we didn’t post much of anything in the past two weeks,” Bev said, her hands still lightly bandaged, but her bruising was fading and the circles under her eyes had finally started to fade a little. “There was a…” She paused, searching for the word. “A debacle that kind of took our attention.”

“It was fucked,” Richie added, helpfully. He still looked pretty shitty, but that wasn’t entirely new. His arm was still wrapped up and he still had bruising around his neck.

“Yeah,” Bev agreed. “It was fucked.”

“Plus,” Eddie said, “I had some personal stuff I had to take care of.” He frowned and then shrugged. “I mean, I still do, but we’ve reached an understanding.”

“We just thought we’d fill you in a little on why we ghosted on y’all,” Richie said, grinning at his _not at all funny_ pun. Eddie rolled his eyes.

\--

When The Losers had arrived at the hospital, it had been a shit show. Richie had been rushed off, along with Mike and Bill since they were still unconscious. Eddie had tried to follow, but he was put into a different room. 

Then, the police showed up.

The medics couldn’t ignore the torn up body they found them with. Bowers had been spread out, like when the demon disintegrated, so did he. But in a more physical, gross, body parts everywhere sort of way. So the police came and, once everyone was on their way towards recovery, began the interrogations. Eddie had been the only one who hesitated when making his phone call.

“If I call her from the hospital _and_ tell her the police are interrogating me, I think she’ll have a fucking heart attack.” His hand was wrapped up in a cast and splint, making sure his fingers healed correctly, but it made gesturing wildly like he _liked_ difficult and painful. He gnawed at his bottom lip, eyes darting to the room where Richie was laid up.

“You don’t have to call her--” Stan sighed.

“And have her find out from someone else?! Are you joking?!” Eddie hissed. Stan rolled his eyes and tossed up his hands.

“I don’t know then!” Stan huffed. “Flip a fucking coin!” Eddie paused, considering, but shook his head with a grimace. He needed to just call her. Maybe he could tell them not to let her in to see him. Maybe he could lie and say he was fine and she didn’t need to come--

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Can we just fight the demon again?” Stan let out a strained wheeze.

“You’re so dramatic,” he said, voice wheezy and stressed. Eddie shot him a dark look and Stan sighed, holding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I know she’s…” He sighed again, rubbing his eyes harshly. “I think it’s all just kinda hitting me,” he whispered, voice beginning to shake. Eddie put the hospital phone back on the hook and sat next to Stan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Stan leaned into him, taking a shuddery breath. “F-Fuck.” The word was punched out of him on a harsh breath. Eddie could relate. “We could’ve died.” His voice was airy, but not light. It was rough and wheezy, so Eddie rubbed Stan’s back. He felt Stan begin to breathe easier as he did.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. He didn’t have much to add to that. They really could’ve died. Richie almost did. Mike and Bill were in the clear for now, but concussions could really fuck people up. Eddie inhaled on a four count and exhaled on a seven, trying to calm himself. They were _alive_. They _didn’t_ die. They were _okay_.

“Hey,” Bev said as she sat down. She placed a hand on Stan’s knee, only wincing slightly. “You guys ok?”

“Just avoiding my mom,” Eddie replied. Bev sucked in a breath and nodded.

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Eddie groaned. “This is all so messed up and it sounds _crazy_.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Eddie shook his head.

“Unless you wanna make the call, no. It’s just something I have to do.” Bev gave him a gentle peck on the cheek, leaning across Stan, before pulling him in for a hug. He shook in her arms, breathing easier, but unable to fully calm down. Eddie stood at the phone once more, taking a deep breath before picking it up, and dialing.

“Kaspbrak residence, this is Sonia.”

“Hi mom,” Eddie began.

“Eddie-Bear! I heard police sirens and ambulance sirens and--” She went on, rambling, and Eddie sighed.

“Mom!” He snapped, ignoring the hurt sound she made. “I’m okay. I’m banged up, but I’m fine. Henry Bowers--”

“What did that horrible boy do to you?!” She screeched. Eddie could feel what little energy he had draining from him.

“It’s,” he sighed, “It’s kind of complicated.”

“In what way? I hope the police arrested him--”

“He’s dead, Ma.” That shut her up. The silence that followed was tense. “He tried to hurt me and my friends again, but--” Eddie’s throat closed up a little, overwhelmed. He had no idea how to explain this. No idea what to say. “He did hurt us, but ended up hurting himself the most.” His mother was still quiet, making sweat bead on his temples. “The police want to question us while we’re stuck here, and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“What did those _friends_ of yours do?” Her voice was dark, angry, and Eddie felt himself tense up.

“_They_ didn’t do _anything_,” Eddie replied, short. “He did this to himself.” Before she could break in again, he ploughed on. “I didn’t call because I want you to come. I called so you could hear this from me, and that’s it. I’m still angry with you.”

“Eddie-Bear--”

“No, mom,” he snapped. “You can’t-- Just-- We’ll talk once I think you’ll actually _listen_ to me.” There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned. Bev gestured towards Richie’s room, miming _He’s awake_. “I have to go. I’ll let you know when I’m back at the Tozier’s, but you are _not_ going to come here or go there, okay? We’ll talk when _I’m_ ready. Love you.” He hung up before she could speak.

“You okay?” Bev asked quietly. Stan was asleep, probably had exhausted himself with nerves. Eddie watched him sleep for a moment before nodding.

“I think I will be. Can we--?”

“Yeah,” she said, gesturing to a waiting nurse. “He’ll take you.” The man smiled, slightly awkwardly, but led Eddie to the room. Richie let out a cheer when Eddie came in, though it quickly devolved into a groan.

“Don’t stress yourself too much,” the nurse said, his smile a little warmer. Richie winked and the man snorted, pointing to the chair by Richie’s bed. “Too much agitation will upset his stitches, so if you could sit in the chair not on the bed, that’d be great.” Before Eddie could ask, the nurse let out a small chuckle. “He kept saying he wanted you in his _lap_, but that’s not gonna happen.” Eddie flushed, giving Richie a weak glare.

“Richie!” He hissed in embarrassment. The nurse laughed at that, full bodied.

“That’s exactly how he said you’d react,” he said. “Use the call button if you need anything.” And with that, he left. Eddie suddenly felt nervous and he wiped his hands on his pants, wincing when he remembered his cast. He sat down, chewing on his lip.

“Hey.” Richie’s voice was soft, gentle, and it made Eddie look up. His brow was furrowed, face etched deep with concern, and Eddie felt his heart speed up. “You okay? What’s wrong?” Eddie felt so selfish, so fucking selfish. Here he was, freaking out about his mom and just _everything_, while his boyfriend was laid up with bruising around his neck, a raspy voice, bandaged arm, and _still_ Richie was concerned about him. Was looking after him.

“I just,” Eddie stammered out, “I love you. I know you know that, but I-- I could have lost you and--” Richie held out his hand and Eddie took it in his good one, gripping it tightly. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he swiped at them. He swallowed thickly, sniffling a little.

“You got me, baby,” Richie said, aiming for joking. There was a lilt to it, but mostly, it came out sincere. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.” Eddie snorted, wiping at his eyes again.

“You’re like a cockroach, Rich. you can make it through pretty much anything, huh?” Eddie teased. Richie grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

“Damn right I’m a _cock_roach.” He waggled his brows, making Eddie roll his eyes, but something settled in his chest. Tension released and he brought Richie’s hand up, placing a gentle kiss to the knuckles. “Hey,” Richie said, drawing Eddie’s attention back to his face. Richie stared at him, awed and smiling and Eddie felt a blush creep onto his face and down his neck.

“What?”

“You were amazing, Eds,” he said. Eddie shook his head. “You _were_. The way you went at that thing? The way you and Bev just took it out? I mean--” He let out a laugh, mostly a reaction to the absurdity. “My Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said, breathy and so in love, it made Eddie’s chest almost ache. He wanted to crawl up and hold him, wanted to run his fingers through Richie’s hair, but he didn’t. “You’re so strong, you know that?”

“Richie--” Eddie protested.

“No, no, no,” Richie shook his head, wincing only slightly. “Let me finish. I’m saying something sincere for once in my life, lemme do it right.” Eddie snorted, but mimed zipping his mouth shut, just the way Richie always did to him. “This summer has been so fucking messed up and weird, but… You pushed through all of it. You stood up to your _mom_. You stood up to Henry Bowers and a fucking _demon_.” Richie gazed at him and Eddie wasn’t sure he deserved the kind of amazement that was in Richie’s eyes. “You have no idea how amazing you are,” Richie breathed. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. For everything you’ve done for yourself this summer.” Eddie wiped at his eyes again, heart near to bursting in his chest. “Fuck my stitches, get in here,” Richie whined.

“If the nurse comes back--”

“Fuck him,” Richie scoffed. “Get your cute little patootie in here!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but gently settled himself next to Richie in the hospital bed. Richie’s eyes closed and he rested his forehead against Eddie’s. “I love you, Edward Kaspbrak.”

“I love you too, Richard Tozier.” Whatever meds Richie was on must have kicked in, because it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, snoring lightly. Eddie watched him rest, smiling softly, before dozing off himself.

\--

“We’re all still technically under investigation,” Bev said to the camera, giving it a wonky grin. “But honestly I’m pretty sure the police department here is most likely going to blame all of this on Bowers. With his dad dead--”

“Good riddance,” Eddie mumbled.

“--The station’s been overwhelmed.” Bev shrugged, chewing the inside of her cheek in thought. “I think they’d rather let this all blow over and blame the crazy dead guy, instead of consider that something beyond fucked up happened.”

“I’m f-f-fine with that,” Bill said. “As nice as i-i-it would be, I wanna put this b-be-behind us.” They all nodded, before Richie grinned up at the camera again.

“That being said, we’re glad for the support we received during our absence. And yes, you’re all right, Eddie and I _are_ the cutest couple in the world, thank you.” He fluttered his lashes, making Bev and Bill laugh while Eddie rolled his eyes. He was still smiling, though.

“It’s almost time for us to all go back to school though,” Eddie said, licking his lips. He scratched at his cast, signed and doodled on by all his friends. “Summer is coming to an end and we’re all gonna be far away from each other.” Eddie gripped Richie’s hand tightly, already thinking about planning extra Skype calls.

“Well, uh,” Richie said, scratching the back of his head. “Actually, I was kind of thinking about dropping out.” Bill, Bev, and Eddie all gaped at him. Richie shrugged. “It’s not like school has been something I cared about, but this--” He gestured to the camera. “This is something I get. Something I’m good at.” He grinned, cheesy and wide. “So if these people wanna see more of me, who am I to deny them the beauty of Richie Trashmouth Tozier, Ghost Hunter Extraordinaire?”

“You can’t do it _alone_, Richie,” Eddie said, frowning. “It’ll be all shaky cams and, jesus, you’ll definitely get possessed or something ‘cause you have no _idea_ how to address ghosts--”

“See, I thought so too.” Bev and Bill just watched, amused as the boys talked. Stan could edit out whatever was needed, but their viewers liked watching Richie and Eddie bicker, so who knew if he’d really take that much out. “Which is why I asked Mike if he wanted to get out of this shit hole town and move with me to…” He tapped his chin in thought. “Where did you go to school again Eds?” Eddie sucked in a breath, eyes wide.

“Richie, I swear to god--”

“I’ve been thinking about this for the last half of the summer and, uh, Mike and I might have found a place not too far from your campus.” He looked nervous, a strange expression for him, eyes darting to a grinning Mike behind the camera. “So I mean, if you _want_\--”

“We got a three bedroom, Eddie,” Mike said, cutting in. He was still behind the camera, avoiding showing off his stitches from being slammed into the wall. “Richie wants you to move in with us.” Eddie gaped between them, eyes wide.

“When did you two even-- What? What about your dad, Mike? He needed you home--”

“I’ve been working a couple jobs these past few years, and saved up a decent amount. It’s hard but,” Mike let out a weary sigh, “I’m getting him a live-in nurse. And eventually moving him to hospice care.” He chewed his bottom lip, giving a sad smile. “It’s just time, you know? We talked about it, him and I, and he realized he couldn’t just keep me here. And especially now that I have an actual plan, I think he’s ready to let me go.” Eddie stood, walking to Mike and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Mike leaned on him, sighing deeply once more.

“Damn,” Eddie whispered. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We had a lot going on, and it’s not like my dad’s cancer is anything new.” Bev frowned.

“It’s something important in your life,” she said. “We wanna know what’s going on, so we can help. No matter what.” Mike shut his eyes, smiling against the tears slowly building.

“This v-v-video has gone off the ra-rails,” Bill said. The group laughed, Eddie going back to his place on the couch as Mike wiped at his eyes. “We were g-g-going to say this w-was our final v-vi-video,” Bill drawled, “But it sounds like R-Richie is g-gonna force everyone to sit through his shi-shi-shit for a while longer.” Bill grinned as Richie gasped.

“I am _offended_,” he cried, over dramatic. “I will not _stand_ for this slander of my character--”

“Anyway,” Bev said, voice raised to be heard over Richie. “It appears this may not be the last video of us, but Debunking Derry is done.” The group nodded collectively. Bill gently touched his bandaged nose, Richie ran his fingers along his bandaged arm, Eddie cradled his hand to his chest, and Bev took a shaky breath. “We found a lot here. Too much.” She shook her head.

“There’s more out there though,” Richie murmured. “And I wanna find it.” He perked up, grinning bright and wide.

“Oh no,” Eddie and Bill grumbled at the same time.

“This means I can actually start Ghost Gays!” There was a collective groan and Richie basked in it. “We queers are gonna find ghost representation even if it--” He choked on his next word, fear flashing through his eyes. “Even if it’s hard,” he finished, though his voice was raspy and tense. Eddie grabbed his hand.

“I guess someone besides Mike is gonna have to be out there looking after you. You’re a pretty big handful.” Eddie might regret it later, but the way Richie perked up would be worth it. Probably.

“So,” Bev said, drawing out the vowel, “I guess that’s it. Thanks for watching everyone!” Mike gave them the thumbs up when he stopped recording. Then, he came over and grabbed Eddie around the waist, lifting him up and spinning.

“Mike!” Eddie blushed, gripping his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you! I could not have handled Richie on my own.” Mike beamed, setting Eddie down gently.

“I’m right here,” Richie droned, but his smile betrayed him. “And it’s not like I’m gonna complain.” Richie made grabby hands towards Eddie, who went over and plopped himself in Richie’s lap. Long arms tangled around Eddie’s waist, and he leaned into it, watching as Bill, Bev, and Mike began to pack up, lost in his thoughts.

Eddie thought about his mother. About how she’d actually listened to him, for once. Wondered what made her start. She hadn’t come to the hospital, hadn’t bothered the Toziers, and she’d waited for Eddie to call her. Maybe she was finally feeling remorse, but Eddie didn’t think that was it. She’d begged him to come home when he had finally called, but he had once again refused. He couldn’t set foot in that house.

Of course, she’d guilted him into letting her come to the Tozier’s, and they’d finally had it out. There had been yelling, crying, and Eddie had set his boundaries. Had threatened a restraining order if she didn’t follow them. _That_ hadn’t gone well, but she had stayed away for now. Facing his mom wasn’t actually quite so terrifying anymore. A lot of things weren’t.

He thought about school, wondering about the process of moving out of the dorms. If it would be easy. Wondered where Mike and Richie had found to live. Considered the idea of actually _living_ with Richie so soon, and wondered why it didn’t make him as nervous as it should. Thought about how everything had gotten so horrible, only to come together in the end.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he whispered, resting his head against Richie’s.

“Yeah?”

“It’s kinda too good, you know? My mom leaving me alone, us making it out, just… Everything, you know?” Richie nodded.

“I do. But it’s real, baby,” he replied, making Eddie chuckle. “It’s real and we got so much ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, content. “Yeah we do.”


End file.
